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"OH! IN THAT FUTURE LET US THINK TO HOLD EACH HEART THE HEART THAT SHARES ;-BYRON)
TO DREAM OF JOY, AND WAKE TO SORROW,-(BYRON)
GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON.
IS DOOMED TO ALL WHO LOVE OR LIVE."-LORD BYRON.
WITH THEM THE IMMORTAL WATERS DRINK, AND SOUL IN SOUL GROW DEATHLESS THEIRS!"-BYRON.
"THERE'S NOT A GLOW THE WORLD CAN GIVE LIKE THAT IT
"THE ABSENT ARE THE DEAD, FOR THEY ARE COLD,-(BYRON)
A BROTHER'S DEATH.
With all the while a cheek whose
Was as a mockery of the tomb,
More slowly drawn, grew less and less :
I called, for I was wild with fear;
I called, and thought I heard a sound-
I only stirred in this black spot,
I only lived, I only drew
The accursed breath of dungeon dew;
One on the earth, and one beneath--
My brothers-both had ceased to breathe:
I took that hand which lay so still,
AND NE'ER CAN BE WHAT ONCE WE DID BEHOLD. -BYRON.
WHEN THE GLOW OF EARLY THOUGHT DECLINES IN FEELING'S DULL DECAY."-LORD BYRON.
"WHO HATH NOT SHARED THAT CALM SO STILL AND DEEP, THE VOICELESS THOUGHT WHICH WOULD NOT SPEAK BUT WEEP,
[From "The Prisoner of Chillon.' After reading this strain of simple and unexaggerated pathos, we feel that there were deeps in Byron's worldencrusted nature, on which he drew too seldom. O! si sic omnia.]
|ND thou art dead, as young and fair
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
There is an eye which could not brook
I will not ask where thou liest low,
There flowers or weeds at will may grow,
So I behold them not:
It is enough for me to prove
That what I loved, and long must love,
To me there needs no stone to tell,
OF CONSCIOUSNESS AWAKING TO HER WOES."--BYRON.
A HOLY CONCORD AND A BRIGHT REGRET, A GLORIOUS SYMPATHY WITH SUNS THAT SET!"-George GorDON, LORD BYRON.
"WHERE'ER WE TREAD, 'TIS HAUNTED,
HOLY GROUND; NO EARTH OF THINE IS LOST IN VULGAR MOULD,-(BYRON)
"YES, THIS WAS ONCE AMBITION'S AIRY HALL,- LORD BYRON)
Yet did I love thee to the last
As fervently as thou,
Who, didst not change through all the past,
And canst not alter now,
The love where Death has set his seal,
Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,
Nor falsehood disavow:
And, what were worse, thou canst not see
The better days of life were ours;
The worst can be but mine:
The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,
Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep
I envy now too much to weep;
Nor need I to repine,
That all those charms have passed away;
The flower in ripened bloom unmatched
Must fall the earliest prey;
Though by no hand untimely snatched,
The leaves must drop away:
Since earthly eye but ill can bear
I know not if I could have borne
To see thy beauties fade;
The night that followed such a morn
DOME OF THought, the PALACE OF THE SOUL."-BYRON.
BUT ONE VAST REALM OF WONDER SPREADS AROUND, AND ALL THE MUSE'S TALES SEEM TRULY TOLD."-Byron.
WHAT STAMPS THE WRINKLE DEEPER ON THE BROW?
"WHAT IS THE WORST OF WOES THAT WAIT ON AGE?
HOW SELFISH SORROW PONDERS ON THE PAST,-LORD BYRON)
GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON.
Thy day without a cloud hath passed,
As once I wept, if I could weep,
To think I was not near to keep
To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,
Uphold thy drooping head;
Yet how much less it were to gain,
The loveliest things that still remain,
Than thus remember thee!
Returns again to me,
And more thy buried love endears
Than aught except its living years,
[From the "Occasional Pieces." It is difficult to believe that the author
AND CLINGS TO THOUGHTS NOW BETTER FAR REMOVED!"-BYRON.
TO VIEW EACH LOVED ONE BLOTTED FROM LIFE'S PAGE, AND BE ALONE ON EARTH AS I AM NOW."-BYRON.