Tag: Lord Byron
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The Origin Of Love?
The ‘ Origin Of Love?’ – Ah why That cruel question ask of me When thou may’st read in many an eye He starts to life on seeing thee? And should’st thou seek his end to know My Heart Forebodes, my fears foresee He’ll linger long in silent woe But live – until I cease…
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Remember Thee! Remember Thee!
Remember thee! Remember thee! Till Lethe quench life’s burning stream Remorse and shame shall cling to thee And haunt thee like a feverish dream! Remember thee! Ay, doubt it not. Thy husband too shall think of thee! By neither shalt thou be forgot, Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
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Oscar Of Alva – A Fallen Hero?
And when that gale is fierce and high A sound is heard in yonder hall It rises hoarsely through the sky And vibrates o’er the mould’ring wall. Yes, when the eddying tempest sighs, It shakes the shield of Oscar brave But there no more his banners rise, No more his plumes of sable wave.
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Oscar Of Alva – Origins
Faded is Alva’s noble race, And gray her towers are seen afar No more her heroes urge the chase, Or roll the crimson tide of war. But who was last of Alva’s clan? Why grows moss on Alva’s stone? Her towers resound no steps of man, They echo to the gale alone.
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Line To A Lady Weeping
WEEP, daughter of a royal line, A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s decay Ah! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father’s fault away! Weep – for thy tears are Virtue’s tears – Auspicious to these suffering isles And be each drop in future years Repaid thee by thy people’s smiles! Lord Byron
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Oscar Of Alva – P3
Once to those eyes the Lamp of Love, They blessed her dear propitious light But now she glimmer’d from above A sad, funeral torch of night.
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Oscar Of Alva – P2
And on the crimson’d rocks beneath, Which scowl o’er ocean’s sullen flow, Pale in the scatter’d ranks of death, She saw the grasping warrior low While many an eye which ne’er again, Could mark the rising orb of the day, Turn’d feebly from the gory plain Beheld in death her fading ray.
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Oscar Of Alva – P1
How sweetly shines through azure skies The lamp of heaven on Lora’s shore Where Alva’s hoary turrets rise And hear the din of arms no more! But often has yon rolling moon On Alva’s casques of silver play’d And view’d, at midnight’s silent noon Her chiefs in gleaming mail array’d
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To D –
In thee I fondly hoped to clasp A friend whom death alone could sever; Till envy, with malignant grasp, Detach’d thee from my breast for ever. True, she has forced thee from my breast, Yet in my heart thou keep’st thy seat; There, there thine image still must rest, Until that heart shall cease to…
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To E –
Let folly smile, to view the names Of thee and me in friendship twined; Yet Virtue will have greater claims To love, than rank with vice combined. And though unequal is thy fate, Since title deck’d my higher birth! Yet envy not this gaudy state; Thine is the pride of modest worth. Our souls at…