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I hate all pain, Given or received we have enough within us The meanest vassal as the loftiest monarch, Not to add to each other's natural burden Of mortal misery.

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
Hate
Received
Given
Mortals
Enough
Add
Vassal
Burden
Loftiest
Misery
Monarch
Within
Meanest
Natural
Monarchs
Pain
Mortal

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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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Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.
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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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Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
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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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My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
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My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
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Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
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Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.
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Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
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In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
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Be hypocritical, be cautious, be not what you seem but always what you see.
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All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.
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Damn description, it is always disgusting.
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Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
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