Poems by George Gordon Byron
To The Countess Of Blessington
... The string which was worthy the strain ...
On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year
... Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, ...
The Harp The Monarch Minstrel Swept
... Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne! ...
Martial, Lib. I, Epig. I.
... 'Hic est, quem legis, ille, quern requiris, Tota notus in orbe Martialis,' &c ...
When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay
... O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly, ...
On A Nun
... And knock, and knock, and knock but none replies ...
Manfred: A Dramatic Poem. Act II.
... [MANFRED takes some of the water into the palm of his hand, and flings it in the air, muttering ...
To A Lady, Who Presented To The Author A Lock Of Hair Braided With His Own, And Appointed A Night In
... Our love is fix'd, I think we've proved it, ...
Impromptu
... Should be free as the former from evil ...
Francisca
... And her cheek grows pale, and her heart beats quick ...
Fare Thee Well
... Still must mine, though bleeding, beat ...
The Chain I Gave: From The Turkish
... False heart, frail chain, and silent lute ...
On Finding A Fan
... This might, perhaps, have fann'd the flame ...
On Lord Thurlow's Poems
... To common sense his thoughts could raise-- ...
From The Prometheus Vinctus Of Aeschylus
... Nor yet thy doom was fix'd, nor Jove relentless frown'd ...
