Lord Byron

1788 - 1824

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on history

in

History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 108.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on love and world

in

I have not loved the world, nor the world me.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii. Stanza 113.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on water

in

Alas! our young affections run to waste, Or water but the desert.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 120.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron

Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: The Corsair, canto i. stanza 1.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on farewells, losing, and prayer

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.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Farewell! if ever fondest Prayer.

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A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on beauty

in

Fills The air around with beauty.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 49.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on songs

in

Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. Line 6.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on heart, love, rest, and soul

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.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on war

in

War, war is still the cry,-"war even to the knife!"

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i. Stanza 86.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by George Gordon, Lord Byron on hell

in

The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture.

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

Source: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 69.

Contributed by: Zaady

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