On my Thirty by Lord Byron Through life’s dull road, so dim a I have dragg’d to three-and-thirty What have these years left to me? Nothing—except thirty-three.
Epistle to a Friend, in Answer to Some Lines Exhorting the Author to Be Cheerful, and to Banish Care by Lord Byron 'OH! banish care’—such ever be The motto of thy revelry! Perchance of mine, when wassail ni Renew those riotous delights, Wherewith the children of Despair
To Thyrza: and Thou Art Dead, as Young and Fair by Lord Byron And thou art dead, as young and fa As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so ra Too soon return’d to Earth! Though Earth received them in her
The Adieu by Lord Byron Written Under The Impression Tha Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy Spread roses o’er my brow; Where Science seeks each loiterin With knowledge to endow.
Lines Addressed to the Rev. J. T. Becher, on His Advising the Author to Mix More With Society by Lord Byron Dear Becher, you tell me to mix w I cannot deny such a precept is wi But retirement accords with the to I will not descend to a world I d Did the senate or camp my exertion
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers (Excerpt) by Lord Byron Time was, ere yet in these degener Ignoble themes obtain’d mistaken p When sense and wit with poesy alli No fabl’d graces, flourish’d side From the same fount their inspirat
To M_________ by Lord Byron Oh! did those eyes, instead of fir With bright, but mild affection sh Though they might kindle less desi Love, more than mortal, would be t For thou art form’d so heavenly fa
Lines: Written in 'Letters of an Italian Nun and an English Gentleman’ by Lord Byron ‘Away, away, your fleeting arts May now betray some simpler hearts And you will smile at their believ And they shall weep at your deceiv ANSWER TO THE FOREGO
Remember Him, Whom Passion’s Power by Lord Byron Remember him, whom Passion’s powe Severely—-deeply—-vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour, When neither fell, though both wer That yielding breast, that melting
To M by Lord Byron Oh! did those eyes, instead of fir With bright, but mild affection sh Though they might kindle less desi Love, more than mortal, would be t For thou art form’d so heavenly fa