George Gordon Byron

To A Beautiful Quaker By George Gordon Byron

To A Beautiful Quaker By George Gordon Byron

To A Beautiful Quaker Sweet girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne’er forget; And though we ne’er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, ‘I love,’ but still My senses struggle with my will: In vain, to drive thee from my breast, My ... »

The Cornelian By George Gordon Byron

The Cornelian By George Gordon Byron

The Cornelian No specious splendour of this stone Endears it to my memory ever; With lustre only once it shone, And blushes modest as the giver. Some, who can sneer at friendship’s ties, Have, for my weakness, oft reproved me; Yet still the simple gift I prize,- For I am sure the giver loved m... »

One Struggle More, And I Am Free By George Gordon Byron

One Struggle More, And I Am Free By George Gordon Byron

One Struggle More, And I Am Free One struggle more, and I am free From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee, Then back to busy life again. It suits me well to mingle now With things that never pleased before! Though every joy is fled below, What future grief can tou... »

Lines Written On A Blank Leaf Of ‘the Pleasures Of Memory’ By George Gordon Byron

Lines Written On A Blank Leaf Of ‘the Pleasures Of Memory’ By George Gordon Byron

Lines Written On A Blank Leaf Of ‘The Pleasures Of Memory’ Absent or present, still to thee, My friend, what magic spells belong! As all can tell, who share, like me, In turn thy converse and thy song. But when the dreaded hour shall come By Friendship ever deem’d too nigh, And `ME... »

From The Portuguese, ‘tu Mi Chamas’ By George Gordon Byron

From The Portuguese, ‘tu Mi Chamas’ By George Gordon Byron

From The Portuguese, ‘Tu Mi Chamas’ In moments to delight devoted, ‘My life!’ with tenderest tone you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If youth could neither fade nor die. To death even hours like these must roll, Ah! then repeat those accents never; Hits: 0 »

Childish Recollections By George Gordon Byron

Childish Recollections By George Gordon Byron

Childish Recollections ‘I cannot but remember such things were, And were most dear to me.’ WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains, Chills the warm, tide which flows along the veins When Health,affrighted, spreads her rosy wing, And flies with every changing gale of spring; Not to ... »

We Sate Down And Wept By The Waters By George Gordon Byron

We Sate Down And Wept By The Waters By George Gordon Byron

We Sate Down And Wept By The Waters I. We sate down and wept by the waters Of Babel, and thought of the day When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, Made Salem’s high places his prey; And ye, oh her desolate daughters! Were scattered all weeping away. II. While sadly we gazed on the river W... »

The Vision Of Judgment By George Gordon Byron

The Vision Of Judgment By George Gordon Byron

The Vision Of Judgment 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 since the Gallic era ‘eight-eight’ The devils had ta’en a longer, stronger pull, And &... »

Stanzas For Music There’s Not A Joy The World Can Give By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas For Music There’s Not A Joy The World Can Give By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas For Music There’s Not A Joy The World Can Give There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines in feeling’s dull decay; ‘Tis not on youth’s smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender blo... »

On Chillon By George Gordon Byron

On Chillon By George Gordon Byron

On Chillon 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 consigned, – To fetters, and the damp vault’s dayless gloom— Their country conqu... »

Lachin Y Gair By George Gordon Byron

Lachin Y Gair By George Gordon Byron

Lachin Y Gair Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses! In you let the minions of luxury rove; Restore me to the rocks, where the snowflake reposes, Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, Round their white summits though elements war; Though c... »

Epigrams By George Gordon Byron

Epigrams By George Gordon Byron

Epigrams Oh, Castlereagh! thou art a patriot now; Cato died for his country, so didst thou: He perish’d rather than see Rome en­slaved, Thou cutt’ st thy throat that Britain may be saved! So Castlereagh has cut his throat!–The worst Of this is, – that his own was not the firs... »

Answer To Some Elegant Verses Sent By A Friend To The Author By George Gordon Byron

Answer To Some Elegant Verses Sent By A Friend To The Author By George Gordon Byron

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, priest or physician Should condemn me for printing a second edition; If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse, May I venture to gi... »

To M. S. G. By George Gordon Byron

To M. S. G. By George Gordon Byron

To M. S. G. Whene’er I view those lips of thine, Their hue invites my fervent kiss; Yet, I forego that bliss divine, Alas! it were—unhallow’d bliss. Whene’er I dream of that pure breast, How could I dwell upon its snows! Yet, is the daring wish represt, For that,—would ... »

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 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 tears, its chords are riven! It soften’d men of iron mould, It gave them vir... »

Solitude By George Gordon Byron

Solitude By George Gordon Byron

Solitude 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 climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold;... »

Ode (From The French) By George Gordon Byron

Ode (From The French) By George Gordon Byron

Ode (From The French) I. We do not curse thee, Waterloo! Though Freedom’s blood thy plain bedew; There ’twas shed, but is not sunk­ Rising from each gory trunk, Like the water-spout from ocean, With a strong and growing motion­ It soars, and mingles in the air, With that of lost Labedoyè... »

If Sometimes In The Haunts Of Men By George Gordon Byron

If Sometimes In The Haunts Of Men By George Gordon Byron

If Sometimes In The Haunts Of Men If sometimes in the haunts of men Thine image from my breast may fade, The lonely hour presents again The semblance of thy gentle shade: And now that sad and silent hour Thus much of thee can still restore, And sorrow unobserved may pour The plaint she dare not spea... »

Don Juan Canto The Ninth By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The Ninth By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The Ninth Oh, Wellington! (or ‘Villainton’–for Fame Sounds the heroic syllables both ways; France could not even conquer your great name, But punn’d it down to this facetious phrase- Beating or beaten she will laugh the same), You have obtain’d great pens... »

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 [from Job] 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 bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thu... »

To A Lady, On Being Asked My Reasons For Quitting England In The Spring By George Gordon Byron

To A Lady, On Being Asked My Reasons For Quitting England In The Spring By George Gordon Byron

To A Lady, On Being Asked My Reasons For Quitting England In The Spring When Man, expell’d from Eden’s bowers, A moment linger’d near the gate, Each scene recall’d the vanish’d hours, And bade him curse his future fate. But, wandering on through distant climes, He learn... »

The Bride Of Abydos By George Gordon Byron

The Bride Of Abydos By George Gordon Byron

The Bride Of Abydos “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, THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED, WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGE... »

Or Change ‘my Life!’ Into ‘my Soul!’ By George Gordon Byron

Or Change ‘my Life!’ Into ‘my Soul!’ By George Gordon Byron

Or change ‘my life!’ into ‘my soul!’ Which, like my love, exists for ever. ———————————- AN OTHER VERSION You call me still your life.–Oh! change the word– Life is as transient as the inconstant sigh... »

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

Lines Written In ‘Letters Of An Italian Nun And An English Gentleman’ ‘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, ADDRESSED TO MISS —. Dear, s... »

Farewell To The Muse By George Gordon Byron

Farewell To The Muse By George Gordon Byron

Farewell To The Muse Thou Power! who hast ruled me through Infancy’s days, Young offspring of Fancy, ’tis time we should part; Then rise on the gale this the last of my lays, The coldest effusion which springs from my heart. This bosom, responsive to rapture no more, Shall hush thy wild ... »

Condolatory Address To Sarah By George Gordon Byron

Condolatory Address To Sarah By George Gordon Byron

Condolatory Address To Sarah, Countess Of Jersey, On The Prince Regent’s Returning Her Picture To Mrs. Mee When the vain triumph of the imperial lord, Whom servile Rome obey’d, and yet abhorr’d, Gave to the vulgar gaze each glorious bust, That left a likeness of the brave or just; ... »

To Woman By George Gordon Byron

To Woman By George Gordon Byron

To Woman Woman! experience might have told me, That all must love thee who behold thee: Surely experience might have taught Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms before me, All I forget, but to adore thee. Oh memory! Thou choicest blessing When join’d with hope, when s... »

The Prisoner Of Chillon By George Gordon Byron

The Prisoner Of Chillon By George Gordon Byron

The Prisoner Of Chillon My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men’s have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow’d, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon’s spoil, And mine has been the fate of thos... »

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

Stanzas For Music They Say That Hope Is Happiness 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 loves the most Was once our only Hope to be, And all that Hope adored an... »

On Jordan’s Banks By George Gordon Byron

On Jordan’s Banks By George Gordon Byron

On Jordan’s Banks On Jordan’s banks the Arab’s camels stray, On Sion’s hill the False One’s votaries pray, The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai’s steep – Yet there – even there – Oh God! thy thunders sleep: There – where thy finger scorch’d ... »

John Keats By George Gordon Byron

John Keats By George Gordon Byron

John Keats Who killed John Keats? ‘I,’ says the Quarterly, So savage and Tartarly; ”Twas one of my feats.’ Who shot the arrow? ‘The poet-priest Milman (So ready to kill man), Or Southey or Barrow. Hits: 0 »

English Bards And Scotch Reviewers (Excerpt) By George Gordon Byron

English Bards And Scotch Reviewers (Excerpt) By George Gordon Byron

English Bards And Scotch Reviewers (Excerpt) Time was, ere yet in these degenerate days Ignoble themes obtain’d mistaken praise, When sense and wit with poesy allied, No fabl’d graces, flourish’d side by side; From the same fount their inspiration drew, And, rear’d by taste, ... »

Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe! By George Gordon Byron

Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe! By George Gordon Byron

Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe! Away, away, ye notes of woe! Be silent, thou once soothing strain, Or I must flee from hence–for, oh! I dare not trust those sounds again. To me they speak of brighter days But lull the chords, for now, alas! I must not think, I may not gaze, On what I am–on ... »

To Belshazzar By George Gordon Byron

To Belshazzar By George Gordon Byron

To Belshazzar Belshazzar! from the banquet turn, Nor in thy sensual fulness fall; Behold! while yet before thee burn The graven words, the glowing wall. Many a despot men miscall Crown’d and anointed from on high; But thou, the weakest, worst of all­ Is it not written, thou must die? Go! dash ... »

The Giaour A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale By George Gordon Byron

The Giaour A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale By George Gordon Byron

The Giaour A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale 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 he saved in vain; When shall such Hero live again? Fair clime! where... »

Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not By George Gordon Byron

Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not By George Gordon Byron

Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not Remind me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish’d hours, When all my soul was given to thee; Hours that may never be forgot, Till Time unnerves our vital powers, And thou and I shall cease to be. Can I forget—canst thou forget, When playing with ... »

Napoleon’s Farewell (From The French) By George Gordon Byron

Napoleon’s Farewell (From The French) By George Gordon Byron

Napoleon’s Farewell (From The French) I. Farewell to the Land where the gloom of my Glory Arose and o’ershadow’d the earth with her name– She abandons me now–but the page of her story, The brightest or blackest, is fill’d with my fame. I have warr’d with a w... »

I Would To Heaven That I Were So Much Clay By George Gordon Byron

I Would To Heaven That I Were So Much Clay By George Gordon Byron

I Would To Heaven That I Were So Much Clay I would to heaven that I were so much clay, As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling – Because at least the past were passed away – And for the future – (but I write this reeling, Having got drunk exceedingly today, So that I seem to ... »

Don Juan Canto The First By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The First By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The First I I want a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one; Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, I’ll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan, We al... »

A Fragment When, To Their Airy Hall By George Gordon Byron

A Fragment When, To Their Airy Hall By George Gordon Byron

A Fragment When, To Their Airy Hall When, to their airy hall, my father’s voice Shall call my spirit, joyful in their choice; When, poised upon the gale, my form shall ride, Or, dark in mist, descend the mountains side; Oh! may my shade behold no sculptured urns, To mark the spot where earth t... »

Thy Days Are Done By George Gordon Byron

Thy Days Are Done By George Gordon Byron

Thy Days Are Done Thy days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country’s strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaughter of his sword! The deeds he did, the fields he won, The freedom he restored! Though thou art fall’n, while we are free Thou shalt not taste of death! The generou... »

Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrink... »

On The Death Of A Young Lady By George Gordon Byron

On The Death Of A Young Lady By George Gordon Byron

On The Death Of A Young Lady Cousin to the Author, and very dear to him Hush’d are the winds, and still the evening gloom, Not e’en a zephyr wanders through the grove, Whilst I return, to view my Margaret’s tomb, And scatter flowers on the dust I love. Within this narrow cell recli... »

Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow On The HillBy George Gordon Byron

Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow On The HillBy George Gordon Byron

Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow On The Hill, Sept. 2, 1807 Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod, With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod; With those who, scattered far, pe... »

Farewell To Malta By George Gordon Byron

Farewell To Malta By George Gordon Byron

Farewell To Malta Adieu, ye joys of La Valette! Adieu, sirocco, sun, and sweat! Adieu, thou palace rarely enter’d! Adieu, ye mansions where I’ve ventured! Adieu, ye cursed streets of stairs! (How surely he who mounts you swears!) Adieu, ye merchants often failing! Adieu, thou mob for eve... »

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage A Romaunt. Canto Iv. By George Gordon Byron

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage A Romaunt. Canto Iv. By George Gordon Byron

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage A Romaunt. Canto Iv. I. I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand: I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glor... »

To Time By George Gordon Byron

To Time By George Gordon Byron

To Time Time! on whose arbitrary wing The varying hours must flag or fly, Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring, But drag or drive us on to die— Hail thou! who on my birth bestowed Those boons to all that know thee known; Yet better I sustain thy load, For now I bear the weight alone. I would no... »

The Siege Of Corinth By George Gordon Byron

The Siege Of Corinth By George Gordon Byron

The Siege Of Corinth 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), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di ... »

Stanzas For Music There Be None Of Beauty’s Daughters By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas For Music There Be None Of Beauty’s Daughters By George Gordon Byron

Stanzas For Music There Be None Of Beauty’s Daughters 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 pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull... »

On A Nun By George Gordon Byron

On A Nun By George Gordon Byron

On A Nun Of two fair virgins, modest, though admired, Heaven made us happy; and now, wretched sires, Heaven for a nobler doom their worth desires, And gazing upon either, both required. Mine, while the torch of Hymen newly fired Becomes extinguish’d, soon – too soon – expires: But ... »

Jeptha’s Daughter By George Gordon Byron

Jeptha’s Daughter By George Gordon Byron

Jeptha’s Daughter Since our Country, our God — Oh, my Sire! Demand that thy Daughter expire; Since thy triumph was brought by thy vow– Strike the bosom that’s bared for thee now! And the voice of my mourning is o’er, And the mountains behold me no more: If the hand that... »

Elegy On Newstead Abbey By George Gordon Byron

Elegy On Newstead Abbey By George Gordon Byron

Elegy On Newstead Abbey ‘It is the voice of years that are gone! they roll before me with all their deeds.’OSSIAN Newstead! fast-falling, once-resplendent dome! Religion’s shrine! repentant HENRY’s pride! Of warriors, monks, and dames the cloister’d tomb, Whose pensive ... »

Beppo, A Venetian Story By George Gordon Byron

Beppo, A Venetian Story By George Gordon Byron

Beppo, A Venetian Story 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 recreation, And buy repentance, ere they grow devout, However high their rank, or low their statio... »

To Anne By George Gordon Byron

To Anne By George Gordon Byron

To Anne Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous: I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you: But woman is made to command and deceive us — I look ‘d in your face, and I almost forgave you. I vow’d I could ne’er for a moment respect you, Yet thought that a day̵... »

The First Kiss Of Love By George Gordon Byron

The First Kiss Of Love By George Gordon Byron

The First Kiss Of Love Away with your fictions of flimsy romance; Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove! Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow, Whose pastoral passions are made ... »

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 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 outwears the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Tho... »

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

Monody On The Death Of The Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan 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 pure feeling which absorbs and awes While Nature makes that melancho... »

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 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 Accords not with the freeborn soul, Which loves the mountain’s craggy side, And se... »

Don Juan Canto The Second By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The Second By George Gordon Byron

Don Juan Canto The Second 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: They were relations, and for them he had a Letter of introduction, which the mor... »

Written Shortly After The Marriage Of Miss Chaworth By George Gordon Byron

Written Shortly After The Marriage Of Miss Chaworth By George Gordon Byron

Written Shortly After The Marriage Of Miss Chaworth Hills of Annesley, bleak and barren, Where my thoughtless childhood stray’d, How the northern tempests, warring, Howl above thy tufted shade! Now no more, the hours beguiling, Former favourite haunts I see; Now no more my Mary smiling Makes y... »