Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou? Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead? Could not the grave forget thee,… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Grief is fantastical, and loves the dead, And the apparel of the grave. — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; The winds were wither'd in… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better; 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
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… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
“We of the craft are all crazy. Some are affected by gaiety, others by melancholy, but all are more or less touched.” — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it. — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
Here's a sigh to those who love me,And a smile to those who hate;And, whatever sky's above me,Here's a heart for every fate. — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
For most men (till by losing rendered sager), Will back their own opinions by a wager — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
