English Romantic poet (1788-1824)
A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but as wide as eye
Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping
In sight, then lost amidst the forestry
Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping
On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy;
A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown
On a fool's head--and there is London Town.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
Friendship is Love without his wings!
LORD BYRON
Hours of Idleness
The night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learned the language of another world.
LORD BYRON
Manfred
Man's love is of man's life a thing apart,
'Tis woman's whole existence.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
I am the very slave of circumstance
And impulse -- borne away with every breath!
LORD BYRON
Sardanapalus
Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.
LORD BYRON
Manfred
Society is now one polish'd horde,
Form'd of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour:
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper,"
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
When we think we lead, we are most led.
LORD BYRON
The Two Foscari
What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth, as I am now.
LORD BYRON
Childe Harold
Sincerity may be humble but she cannot be servile.
LORD BYRON
letter, May 29, 1823
Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires,
Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.
LORD BYRON
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure;
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
LORD BYRON
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers
Though women are angels, yet wedlock's the devil.
LORD BYRON
Hours of Idleness
And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but
The truth in masquerade.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear--
In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
That weapon of her weakness she can wield,
To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield.
LORD BYRON
The Corsair
'Tis solitude should teach us how to die;
It hath no flatterers; vanity can give
No hollow aid; alone--man with his God must strive.
LORD BYRON
Childe Harold
'Tis strange -- but true; for truth is always strange;
Stranger than fiction.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as most people, being always excited; women, wine, fame, the table, even ambition, sate now & then, but every turn of the card & cast of the dice keeps the gambler alive.
LORD BYRON
Letters and Journals