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Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.

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
Think
Thinking
Life
Sonnets
Laura
Sonnet
Wife
Written
Would

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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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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
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And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
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And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
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He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonised the whole — And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
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A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
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The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way And the greatest of all is John Bull!
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Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate's sultry.
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Jealousy dislikes the world to know it.
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If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.
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Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
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Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.
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Tis an old lesson time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
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Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave.
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Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, For there thy habitation is the heart-- The heart which love of thee alone can bind And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd-- To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
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Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
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Socrates said, our only knowledge was To know that nothing could be known a pleasant Science enough, which levels to an ass Each Man of Wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton, (that Proverb of the Mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only like a youth Picking up shells by the great Ocean-Truth.
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