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Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom,
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-05 |
Rating: 3.00
Votes: 2 |
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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.
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-05 |
Rating: 4.00
Votes: 5 |
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There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-05 |
Rating: 3.33
Votes: 3 |
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When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-05 |
Rating: 3.50
Votes: 4 |
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Missolonghi, Jan. 22, 1824
'Tis time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-04 |
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like Thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:
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at 2008-04-03 |
Rating: 5.00
Votes: 1 |
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My sister! my sweet sister! if a name
Dearer and purer were, it should be thine;
Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim
No tears, but tenderness to answer mine:
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-03 |
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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From Job
A spirit passed before me: I beheld
The face of immortality unveiled -
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-03 |
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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If, in the month of dark December,
Leander, who was nightly wont
(What maid will not the tale remember?)
To cross thy stream, broad Hellespont!
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-02 |
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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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;
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-02 |
Rating: 5.00
Votes: 1 |
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She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-02 |
Rating: 3.67
Votes: 3 |
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I stood beside the grave of him who blazed
The comet of a season, and I saw
The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed
With not the less of sorrow and of awe
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-01 |
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-04-01 |
Rating: 5.00
Votes: 1 |
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I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
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by George Gordon Byron
at 2008-01-21 |
Rating: 3.71
Votes: 7 |
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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.
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by Lord Byron
at 2008-01-21 |
Rating: 1.00
Votes: 1 |
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