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Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear-- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield.
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
Woman
Tear
Spear
Weapon
Subdue
Dear
Wield
Weakness
Dangerously
Save
Spears
Weapons
Shield
Tears
Shields
Eye
Convincing
Unanswerable
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I loved my country, and I hated him.
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All human history attests That happiness for man, - the hungry sinner! - Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner. ~Lord Byron, Don Juan, Canto XIII, stanza 99
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Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
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What deep wounds ever closed without a scar? The hearts bleed longest, and heals but to wear That which disfigures it.
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Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
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They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.
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And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.
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Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
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And hold up to the sun my little taper.
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There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.
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For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
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Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.
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Fame is the thirst of youth.
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Lord of himself that heritage of woe!
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There is no instinct like that of the heart.
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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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Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
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