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Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?
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
Forms
Alone
Sculptor
Show
Seized
Shows
Sculptors
Nature
Sculpture
Form
Hath
Soul
Fairs
Fair
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My native land, good night!
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It has been said that the immortality of the soul is a grand peut-tre -but still it is a grand one. Everybody clings to it -the stupidest, and dullest, and wickedest of human bipeds is still persuaded that he is immortal.
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You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
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Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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What should I have known or written had I been a quiet, mercantile politician or a lord in waiting? A man must travel, and turmoil, or there is no existence.
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It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.
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Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
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I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.
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