All Poems
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Siege and Conquest of Alhama, The
© Lord Byron
The Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
The Truth
© Archibald Lampman
Watch and be still, nor hearken to the fool,
The babbler of consistency and rule:
Wisest is he, who, never quite secure,
Changes his thoughts for better day by day:
To-morrow some new light will shine, be sure,
And thou shalt see thy thought another way.
On A Distant View Of Harrow
© Lord Byron
Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov'd recollection
Embitters the present, compar'd with the past;
Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were form'd, too romantic to last;
To Sir Joshua Reynolds
© William Cowper
Dear President, whose art sublime
Gives perpetuity to time,
And bids transactions of a day,
That fleeting hours would waft away
To M. S. G.
© Lord Byron
Whene'er I view those lips of thine,
Their hue invites my fervent kiss;
Yet, I forego that bliss divine,
Alas! it were---unhallow'd bliss.
He Who From Fate Receives But Blow On Blow
© France Preseren
He who from fate receives but blow on blow,
Who, like myself in her disfavour stands,
Although he had a hundred mighty hands,
Would vainly strive for riches here below.
Song of Saul Before His Last Battle
© Lord Byron
Warriors and chiefs! should the shaft or the sword
Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord,
Heed not the corse, though a kings in your path:
Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath!
To M
© Lord Byron
Oh! did those eyes, instead of fire,
With bright, but mild affection shine:
Though they might kindle less desire,
Love, more than mortal, would be thine.
Lachin Y Gair
© Lord Byron
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses!
In you let the minions of luxury rove;
Restore me to the rocks, where the snowflake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love:
Lament For Three Brothers
© Confucius
They flit about, the yellow birds,
And rest upon the jujubes find.
Who buried were in duke Muh's grave,
Alive to awful death consigned?
To Mary, On Receiving Her Picture
© Lord Byron
This faint resemblance of thy charms,
(Though strong as mortal art could give,)
My constant heart of fear disarms,
Revives my hopes, and bids me live.
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Second Book
© Robert Southey
She spake, and lo! celestial radiance beam'd
Amid the air, such odors wafting now
Stanzas To A Lady, On Leaving England
© Lord Byron
'Tis done---and shivering in the gale
The bark unfurls her snowy sail;
And whistling o'er the bending mast,
Loud sings on high the fresh'ning blast;
And I must from this land be gone,
Because I cannot love but one.
The Preference Declared
© Eugene Field
Boy, I detest the Persian pomp;
I hate those linden-bark devices;
To Eliza
© Lord Byron
Eliza, what fools are the Mussulman sect,
Who to woman deny the soul's future existence!
Could they see thee, Eliza, they'd own their defect,
And this doctrine would meet with a general resistance.
Sonnet - to Genevra
© Lord Byron
Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,
And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
My heart would wish away that ruder glow:
"Just as the ocean cradles our earth's orb..."
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Just as the ocean cradles our earth's orb,
This earthly life's by dreams surrounded;
Sonnet to Lake Leman
© Lord Byron
Rousseau -- Voltaire -- our Gibbon -- De Sta?l --
Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore,
Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more,
Their memory thy remembrance would recall:
