Byron's Poetry Quotes

“She was like me in lineaments-- her eyes
Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone
Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;
But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty;
She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind
To comprehend the universe: nor these
Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine,
Pity, and smiles, and tears-- which I had not;
And tenderness-- but that I had for her;
Humility-- and that I never had.
Her faults were mine-- her virtues were her own--
I loved her, and destroy'd her!”
― George Gordon Byron, The Poetical Works of Lord Byron

“The day drags through though storms keep out the sun;
And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on:

Even as a broken mirror, which the glass
In every fragment multiplies; and makes
A thousand images of one that was,
The same, and still the more, the more it breaks;
And thus the heart will do which not forsakes,
Living in shattered guise, and still, and cold,
And bloodless, with its sleepless sorrow aches,
Yet withers on till all without is old,
Showing no visible sign, for such things are untold.”
― Lord Byron, The Complete Poetical Works of Byron

“When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow—
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met—
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.”
― George Gordon Byron, Byron: Poetical Works

“We'll Go No More A-roving

So, we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.

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.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.”
― Lord Byron, Byron: Poetical Works

“They say that Hope is happiness
But genuine Love must prize the past;
And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless:
They rose first -- they set the last.

And all that mem'ry loves the most
Was once our only hope to be:
And all that hope adored and lost
Hath melted into memory.

Alas! It is delusion all--
The future cheats us from afar:
Nor can we be what we recall,
Nor dare we think on what we are.”
― Lord George Gordon Byron, The Poetical Works of Byron

“Despair and Genius are too oft connected”
― George Gordon Byron, Byron's Poetry: Authoritative Texts, Letters and Journals, Criticism, Images of Byron

“But first on earth as vampire sent
Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent
Then gastly haunt thy native place
And suck the blood of all thy race”
― Lord Byron, Byron's Poetical Work

“She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!”
― George Gordon Byron 1788-, The Poetry of Lord Byron

“Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime,
The image of Eternity, -- the throne
Of the Invisible! even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.”
― Lord Byron, The Complete Poetical Works of Byron

“Time! On whose arbitrary wing
The varying hours must flag or fly,
Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,
But drag or drive us on to die”
― Lord Byron, The poetical works of Lord Byron

“Tomorrow would have given him all,
Repaid his pangs, repair’d his fall:
Tomorrow would have been the first
Of days no more deplored or crust,
But bright, and long, and beckoning years, Seen dazzling through the mist of tears,
Guerdon of many a painful hour;
Tomorrow would have given him power
To rule, to shine, to smite, to save—
And must it dawn upon his grave?”
― Lord Byron, The poetical works of Lord Byron

“But he who seeks the flowers of truth
Must quit the garden for the field”
― Lord Byron, The poetical works of Lord Byron

“For time at last sets all things even
And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power.”
― Lord Byron, The poetical works of Lord Byron

“What else can joy be, but the spreading joy?”
― Lord Byron, The poetical works of Lord Byron