George Gordon Byron
To Anne: Oh, Say Not, Sweet Anne by George Gordon Byron

To Anne: Oh, Say Not, Sweet Anne by George Gordon Byron

Oh, say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed The heart which adores you should wish to dissever; Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed, To bear me from love and ...

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There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods by George Gordon Byron

There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods by George Gordon Byron

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not ...

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There Be None Of Beauty’s Daughters by George Gordon Byron

There Be None Of Beauty’s Daughters by George Gordon Byron

There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like Thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charméd ocean's ...

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The Vision Of Judgment by George Gordon Byron

The Vision Of Judgment by George Gordon Byron

I Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate: His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull, So little trouble had been given of late; Not that the place by any means was full, But ...

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The Siege Of Corinth by George Gordon Byron

The Siege Of Corinth by George Gordon Byron

THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. TO JOHN HOBHOUSE, ESQ., THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED BY HIS FRIEND. January 22, 1816. ADVERTISEMENT "The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), ...

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The Harp The Monarch Minstrel Swept by George Gordon Byron

The Harp The Monarch Minstrel Swept by George Gordon Byron

The harp the monarch minstrel swept, The King of men, the loved of Heaven, Which Music hallow'd while she wept O'er tones her heart of hearts had given, Redoubled be her ...

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The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale by George Gordon Byron

The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale by George Gordon Byron

No breath of air to break the wave That rolls below the Athenian's grave, That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff First greets the homeward-veering skiff High o'er the land ...

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The Giaour by George Gordon Byron

The Giaour by George Gordon Byron

A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common in the East than formerly; either because the ...

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The Bride Of Abydos by George Gordon Byron

The Bride Of Abydos by George Gordon Byron

"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted." — Burns TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND, ...

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Stanzas For Music: They Say That Hope Is Happiness by George Gordon Byron

Stanzas For Music: They Say That Hope Is Happiness by George Gordon Byron

They say that Hope is happiness; But genuine Love must prize the past, And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless: They rose the first--they set the last; And all that Memory ...

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On A Distant View Of The Village And School Of The Harrow Hill by George Gordon Byron

On A Distant View Of The Village And School Of The Harrow Hill by George Gordon Byron

Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.~Virgil Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov'd recollection Embitters the present, compar'd with the past; Where science first ...

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On A Cornelian Heart Which Was Broken by George Gordon Byron

On A Cornelian Heart Which Was Broken by George Gordon Byron

Ill-fated Heart! And can it be, That thou should'st thus be rent in vain? Have years of care for thine and thee Alike been all employ'd in vain? Yet precious seems each ...

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Monody On The Death Of The Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan by George Gordon Byron

Monody On The Death Of The Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan by George Gordon Byron

When the last sunshine of expiring day In summer's twilight weeps itself away, Who hath not felt the softness of the hour Sink on the heart, as dew along the flower? With a ...

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Mazeppa by George Gordon Byron

Mazeppa by George Gordon Byron

'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede-- Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to combat and to bleed. The power and glory of the war, Faithless ...

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Lines: Written In ‘Letters Of An Italian Nun And An English Gentleman’ by George Gordon Byron

Lines: Written In ‘Letters Of An Italian Nun And An English Gentleman’ by George Gordon Byron

'Away, away, your fleeting arts May now betray some simpler hearts; And you will smile at their believing, And they shall weep at your deceiving.' ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING, ...

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Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill by George Gordon Byron

Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill by George Gordon Byron

And thou wert sad—yet I was not with thee! And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near; Methought that joy and health alone could be Where I was not—and pain and sorrow here. ...

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Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull by George Gordon Byron

Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull by George Gordon Byron

Start not—nor deem my spirit fled: In me behold the only skull From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaffed like thee; I ...

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Lara. A Tale by George Gordon Byron

Lara. A Tale by George Gordon Byron

The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her feudal chain; He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord-- The long self-exiled chieftain is restored: ...

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Lara  by George Gordon Byron

Lara by George Gordon Byron

LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her feudal chain; He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord — The ...

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Epistle To A Friend, In Answer To Some Lines Exhorting The Author To Be Cheerful, And To Banish Care by George Gordon Byron

Epistle To A Friend, In Answer To Some Lines Exhorting The Author To Be Cheerful, And To Banish Care by George Gordon Byron

'OH! banish care'--such ever be The motto of thy revelry! Perchance of mine, when wassail nights Renew those riotous delights, Wherewith the children of Despair Lull the lone ...

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English Bards And Scotch Reviewers: A Satire by George Gordon Byron

English Bards And Scotch Reviewers: A Satire by George Gordon Byron

'I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew! Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers'~Shakespeare 'Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true, There are as mad, ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth by George Gordon Byron

I now mean to be serious;--it is time, Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious. A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime, And critically held as deleterious: ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Third by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Third by George Gordon Byron

Hail, Muse! et cetera.--We left Juan sleeping, Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast, And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping, And loved by a young heart, too deeply ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Tenth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Tenth by George Gordon Byron

When Newton saw an apple fall, he found In that slight startle from his contemplation-- 'Tis said (for I 'll not answer above ground For any sage's creed or calculation)-- A ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Sixth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Sixth by George Gordon Byron

'There is a tide in the affairs of men Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest, And most of us have found it now and then; At least we think so, though but few have ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Sixteenth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Sixteenth by George Gordon Byron

The antique Persians taught three useful things, To draw the bow, to ride, and speak the truth. This was the mode of Cyrus, best of kings-- A mode adopted since by modern ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Seventh by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Seventh by George Gordon Byron

O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly Around us ever, rarely to alight? There's not a meteor in the polar sky Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight. Chill, and chain'd ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Second by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Second by George Gordon Byron

XXIV The ship, call'd the most holy "Trinidada," Was steering duly for the port Leghorn; For there the Spanish family Moncada Were settled long ere Juan's sire was born: ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Fourth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Fourth by George Gordon Byron

Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end; For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend, Like Lucifer ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth by George Gordon Byron

If from great nature's or our own abyss Of thought we could but snatch a certainty, Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss-- But then 'twould spoil much good philosophy. ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Fifth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Fifth by George Gordon Byron

When amatory poets sing their loves In liquid lines mellifluously bland, And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves, They little think what mischief is in hand; The ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth by George Gordon Byron

Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection; Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be As à-propos of hope or retrospection, As though the lurking thought had follow'd free. ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh by George Gordon Byron

I When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter," And proved it--'twas no matter what he sald: They say his system 'tis in vain to batter, Too subtle for the airiest human ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Eighth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Eighth by George Gordon Byron

The town was taken--whether he might yield Himself or bastion, little matter'd now: His stubborn valour was no future shield. Ismail's no more! The Crescent's silver bow Sunk, ...

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Dear Doctor, I Have Read Your Play by George Gordon Byron

Dear Doctor, I Have Read Your Play by George Gordon Byron

Dear Doctor, I have read your play, Which is a good one in its way, Purges the eyes, and moves the bowels, And drenches handkerchiefs like towels With tears that, in a flux of ...

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Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto Iii. by George Gordon Byron

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto Iii. by George Gordon Byron

I. Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child! Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted,--not as now we ...

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Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto Ii. by George Gordon Byron

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto Ii. by George Gordon Byron

I. Come, blue-eyed maid of heaven!-but thou, alas! Didst never yet one mortal song inspire- Goddess of Wisdom! here thy temple was, And is, despite of war and wasting fire, ...

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Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto I. by George Gordon Byron

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto I. by George Gordon Byron

To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have late been straying, Though Beauty long hath there been matchless deem'd; Not in those visions to the heart displaying Forms which ...

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Beppo, A Venetian Story by George Gordon Byron

Beppo, A Venetian Story by George Gordon Byron

I. 'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout All countries of the Catholic persuasion, Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about, The People take their fill of ...

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A Spirit Passed Before Me [from Job] by George Gordon Byron

A Spirit Passed Before Me [from Job] by George Gordon Byron

A spirit passed before me: I beheld The face of immortality unveiled-- Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine-- And there it stood,--all formless--but divine: Along my ...

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Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill by George Gordon Byron

Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill by George Gordon Byron

And thou wert sad—yet I was not with thee!And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near;Methought that joy and health alone could beWhere I was not—and pain and sorrow here.And is it ...

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It Is The Hour by George Gordon Byron

It Is The Hour by George Gordon Byron

It is the hour when from the boughsThe nightingale's high note is heard;It is the hour -- when lover's vowsSeem sweet in every whisper'd word;And gentle winds and waters near,Make ...

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My Soul Is Dark by George Gordon Byron

My Soul Is Dark by George Gordon Byron

My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That ...

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Darkness by George Gordon Byron

Darkness by George Gordon Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the starsDid wander darkling in the eternal space,Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earthSwung blind ...

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When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron

When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron

When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The ...

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Solitude by George Gordon Byron

Solitude by George Gordon Byron

To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;To ...

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To Caroline by George Gordon Byron

To Caroline by George Gordon Byron

Think'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Suffus'd in tears, implore to stay;And heard unmov'd thy plenteous sighs, Which said far more than words can say?Though keen the grief ...

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I Would I Were A Careless Child by George Gordon Byron

I Would I Were A Careless Child by George Gordon Byron

I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave; The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride ...

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So We’Ll Go No More A-Roving by George Gordon Byron

So We’Ll Go No More A-Roving by George Gordon Byron

So we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart still be as loving, And the moon still be as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul ...

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Don Juan: Canto The Twelfth by George Gordon Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Twelfth by George Gordon Byron

LIV But now I will begin my poem. 'Tis Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new, That from the first of Cantos up to this I've not begun what we have to go ...

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