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Such is your cold coquette, who can't say No, And won't say Yes, and keeps you on and off-ing On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow, Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.
Lord Byron
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Lord Byron
Age: 36 †
Born: 1788
Born: January 22
Died: 1824
Died: April 19
Autobiographer
Baron Byron
Diarist
Librettist
Lyricist
Military Personnel
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron
Noel Byron
Xhorxh Bajroni
Bajron
George Gordon
Jerzy Gordon Byron
Pai-lun
Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Noel
Byron
George Gordon Byron
Baron Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Noël Byron Byron
Bayrěn
Payrěn
George Gordon By
Begins
Coquette
Keeps
Coquetry
Blow
Wreck
Cold
Wrecks
Heart
Inward
Shore
Till
Sees
Scoffing
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Truth is a gem that is found at a great depth whilst on the surface of the world all things are weighed by the false scale of custom.
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To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.
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The waves were dead the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd Darkness had no need Of aid from them-She was the Universe.
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Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.
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Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!
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I die but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed.
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Prolonged endurance tames the bold.
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Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
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May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.
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A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.
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The mind can make substance, and people planets of its own with beings brighter than have been, and give a breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
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...And these vicissitudes come best in youth For when they happen at a riper age, People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth, And wonder Providence is not more sage. Adversity is the first path to truth: He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, Has won experience which is deem'd so weighty.
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Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
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The premises are so delightfully extensive, that two people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting.
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For truth is always strange stranger than fiction.
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She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
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A man of eighty has outlived probably three new schools of painting, two of architecture and poetry and a hundred in dress.
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Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.
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