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Lord Byron

Lord Byron

Lines Written Beneath a Picture

Dear object of defeated care!
Though now of Love and thee bereft,
To reconcile me with despair,
Thing image and any tears are left.
 
'Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope;
But this I feel can ne’er be true:
For by the death?blow of my Hope
My Memory immortal grew.
 
Athens, January 1811.

#EnglishWriters #Romantic

Autres oeuvres par Lord Byron...
Sonnet

Thy cheek is pale with thought, bu… And yet so lovely, that if Mirth… Its rose of whiteness with the bri… My heart would wish away that rude… And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes—…
Damætas

In law an infant, and in years a b… In mind a slave to every vicious j… From every sense of shame and virt… In lies an adept, in deceit a fien… Versed in hypocrisy, while yet a c…
A Spirit Passed Before Me [from Job]

A spirit passed before me: I behe… The face of immortality unveiled— Deep sleep came down on every eye… And there it stood,—all formless—b… Along my bones the creeping flesh…
To Thyrza: and Thou Art Dead, as Young and Fair

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…
Prometheus

Titan! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despi… What was thy pity’s recompense?
 1
To Emma

Since now the hour is come at last… When you must quit your anxious lo… Since now our dream of bliss is pa… One pang, my girl, and all is over… Alas! that pang will be severe,
 1
Sonnet to George the Fourth, on the Repeal of Lord Edward Fitzgerald’s Forfeiture

To be the father of the fatherless… To stretch the hand from the thron… His offspring, who expired in othe… To make thy sire’s sway by a kingd… This is to be a monarch, and repre…
Sonnet to Lake Leman

Rousseau—Voltaire—our Gibbon—De… Leman! these names are worthy of t… Thy shore of names like these! wer… Their memory thy remembrance would… To them thy banks were lovely as t…
Oscar of Alva: A Tale

How sweetly shines through azure s… The lamp of heaven on Lora’s shor… Where Alva’s hoary turrets rise, And hear the din of arms no more! But often has yon rolling moon
To a Lady, Who Presented to the Author a Lock of Hair Braided With His Own, and Appointed a Night in December to Meet Him in the Garden

These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense love ora… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…
To E

Let Folly smile, to view the name… Of thee and me in friendship twine… Yet Virtue will have greater clai… To love, than rank with vice combi… And though unequal is thy fate,
The Chain I Gave: From the Turkish

The chain I gave was fair to view… The lute I added sweet in sound; The heart that offer’d both was tr… And ill deserved the fate it found… These gifts were charm’d by secret…
Address, Spoken at the Opening of Drury

In one dread night our city saw, a… Bow’d to the dust, the Drama’s to… In one short hour beheld the blazi… Apollo sink, and Shakspeare cease… Ye who beheld, (oh! sight admired…
Lines to Mr. Hodgson Written on Board the Lisbon Packet

Huzza! Hodgson, we are going, Our embargo’s off at last; Favourable breezes blowing Bend the canvass o’er the mast. From aloft the signal’s streaming,
Lara

The Serfs are glad through Lara’s wide domain, [2] With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth. And whence they know not, why they need not guess; Though sear’d by toil, and some...



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