I Speak Not (Lord Byron Poem)
I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name; There is grief in the sound, there is guilt ...
I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name; There is grief in the sound, there is guilt ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
THE Demon, in my chamber high, This morning came to visit me, And, thinking he would find some fault, He ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa'flow'r scents the dery air, Where the howlet mourns in her ...
AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa'flower scents the dewy air, Where the howlet mourns in her ...
On the unbreathing sides of hills they play, a specklike girl and boy, alone, but near a specklike house. The ...
I have enough treasures from the past to last me longer than I need, or want. You know as well ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
WHAT will I do gin my Hoggie die? My joy, my pride, my Hoggie! My only beast, I had nae ...
FROM those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, ...
Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines From his mountains; an ...
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines 85 From his ...
How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot, From the morn to the evening he strays: He shall follow his sheep ...
To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the ...
Tell me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. ...
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