lundi 15 juin 2009

End of Lord Byron's Grand Tour

But wandering on through distant climes,
He learnt to bear his loud of grief;
Just gave a sight to other times,
And found in busier scenes relief



To a Lady. On being asked my reason for quitting England in the spring.






And oft I thought at Cinthia’s moon,
When sailing o’ver the Aegean wave,
“Now Thyrza gazes on that moon” –
Alas, it gleam’d upon her grave!



One struggle more, and I am free




If thou regrett’st thy youth, why live ?
The land of honourable death
Is here: –up to the field, and give
Away thy breath!



On this days I complete my thirthy-sixth year












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