Land of lost gods and godlike men.
Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)
Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto ii. Stanza 85.
Contributed by: Zaady
I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me; and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture.
Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii. Stanza 72.
I only know we loved in vain; I only feel-farewell! farewell!
Source: Farewell! if ever fondest Prayer.
I see before me the gladiator lie.
Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 140.
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam.
Source: The Corsair, canto i. stanza 1.
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky.
Fills The air around with beauty.
Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 49.
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
Source: English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. Line 6.
For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast. And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.
Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii. Stanza 27.
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