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8 Works of Lord Byron

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Why dost thou build the hall, Son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy tower to-day: yet a few years, and the blast of the desart comes: it howls in thy empty court.-OSSIAN. 1. Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle:Thou, the hall of my Fathers, art gone to decay;In thy once smiling […]

To E—-

Story type: Poetry

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To E—- [1] Let Folly smile, to view the namesOf thee and me, in Friendship twin’d;Yet Virtue will have greater claimsTo love, than rank with vice combin’d. And though unequal is thy fate,Since title deck’d my higher birth;Yet envy not this gaudy state,Thine is the pride of modest worth. Our souls at least congenial meet,Nor […]

1. 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. 2. Within this narrow cell reclines her clay,That clay, where once such animation beam’d;The King of Terrors seiz’d her as his prey;Not worth, nor […]

To D—-

Story type: Poetry

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1. In thee, I fondly hop’d to claspA friend, whom death alone could sever;Till envy, with malignant grasp,Detach’d thee from my breast for ever. 2. True, she has forc’d thee from my breast,Yet, in my heart, thou keep’st thy seat;There, there, thine image still must rest,Until that heart shall cease to beat. 3. And, when […]

To Caroline

Story type: Poetry

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1. Think’st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes,Suffus’d in tears, implore to stay;And heard unmov’d thy plenteous sighs,Which said far more than words can say? 2. Though keen the grief thy tears exprest,When love and hope lay both o’erthrown;Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breastThrobb’d, with deep sorrow, as thine own. 3. But, when our […]

1. You say you love, and yet your eyeNo symptom of that love conveys,You say you love, yet know not why,Your cheek no sign of love betrays. 2. Ah! did that breast with ardour glow,With me alone it joy could know,Or feel with me the listless woe,Which racks my heart when far from thee. 3. […]

[Greek: Maedam o panta nemon, K.T.L] Great Jove! to whose Almighty ThroneBoth Gods and mortals homage pay,Ne’er may my soul thy power disown,Thy dread behests ne’er disobey.Oft shall the sacred victim fall,In sea-girt Ocean’s mossy hall;My voice shall raise no impious strain,‘Gainst him who rules the sky and azure main. … How different now thy […]

[Lines written…English Gentleman, by J.J. Rousseau: [1] Founded on Facts”] “Away, away,–your flattering artsMay now betray some simpler hearts;And you will smile at their believing,And they shall weep at your deceiving.” [Footnote 1:A second edition of this work, of which the title is, Letters, etc., translated from the French of Jean Jacques Rousseau, was published […]