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Lord Byron

Epigram, on the Braziers’ Company Having Resolved to Present an Address to Queen Caroline

The braziers, it seems, are preparing to pass
An address, and present it themselves all in brass,—
A superfluous pageant-for, by the Lord Harry!
They’ll find where they’re going much more than they carry.

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Altre opere di Lord Byron ...
Love's Last Adieu

The roses of Love glad the garden… Though nurtur’d 'mid weeds droppin… Till Time crops the leaves with u… Or prunes them for ever, in Love’… In vain, with endearments, we soot…
 1
Epigram: From the French of Rulhières

If, for silver or for gold, You could melt ten thousand pimple… Into half a dozen dimples, Then your face we might behold, Looking, doubtless, much more snug…
Song of Saul Before His Last Battle

WARRIORS and chiefs! should th… Pierce me in leading the host of t… Heed not the corse, though a king’… Bury your steel in the bosoms of… Thou who art bearing my buckler an…
To Anne

Oh, Anne, your offences to me hav… I thought from my wrath no atoneme… But woman is made to command and d… I look 'd in your face, and I alm… I vow’d I could ne’er for a momen…
It Is the Hour

It is the hour when from the bough… The nightingale’s high note is hea… It is the hour—when lover’s vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word… And gentle winds and waters near,
From the French

ÆGLE, beauty and poet, has two l… She makes her own face, and does n…
Answer to Some Elegant Verses Sent by a Friend to the Author, Complaining That One of His Descriptions Was Rather Too Warmly Drawn

‘But if any old lady, knight, prie… Should condemn me for printing a s… If good Madam Squintum my work sh… May I venture to give her a smack… CANDOUR compels me, BECHER!…
Epistle From Mr. Murray to Dr. Polidori

Dear Doctor, I have read your pla… Which is a good one in its way,­ Purges the eyes and moves the bowe… And drenches handkerchiefs like to… With tears, that, in a flux of gri…
Ode on Venice

Oh Venice! Venice! when thy marbl… Are level with the waters, there s… A cry of nations o’er thy sunken h… A loud lament along the sweeping s… If I, a northern wanderer, weep f…
On Chillon

Eternal Spirit of the chainless M… Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, t… For there thy habitation is the he… The heart which love of thee alone… And when thy sons to fetters are c…
The Island: Canto II.

How pleasant were the songs of To… When Summer’s Sun went down the c… Come, let us to the islet’s softes… And hear the warbling birds I the… The wood-dove from the forest dept…
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto II.

Come, blue-eyed maid of heaven!-bu… Didst never yet one mortal song in… Goddess of Wisdom! here thy templ… And is, despite of war and wasting… And years, that bade thy worship t…
When We Two Parted

When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
 7
Don Juan: Canto the Sixteenth

The antique Persians taught three… To draw the bow, to ride, and spea… This was the mode of Cyrus, best… A mode adopted since by modern you… Bows have they, generally with two…
Lines to a Lady Weeping

Weep, daughter of a royal line, A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s deca… Ah! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father’s fault away! Weep—for thy tears are Virtue’s t…



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