Childe Harold - Canto IV - Verse 178
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‘I cannot but remember such things… And were most dear to me.’ WHEN slow Disease, with all her… Chills the warm, tide which flows… When Health, affrighted, spreads…
O ye! who teach the ingenuous yout… Holland, France, England, German… I pray ye flog them upon all occas… It mends their morals, never mind… The best of mothers and of educati…
Though the day of my destiny’s ove… And the star of my fate hath decli… Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could fin… Though thy soul with my grief was…
To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have… Though Beauty long hath there bee… Not in those visions to the heart… Forms which it sighs but to have o…
'OH! banish care’—such ever be The motto of thy revelry! Perchance of mine, when wassail ni… Renew those riotous delights, Wherewith the children of Despair
Well! thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy wea… Warmly, as it was wont to do. Thy husband’s blest—and 'twill imp…
I saw thee weep—the big bright tea… Came o’er that eye of blue; And then methought it did appear A violet dropping dew: I saw thee smile—the sapphire’s bl…
Ambition was my idol, which was br… Before the shrines of Sorrow and… And the two last have left me many… O’er which reflection may be made… Now, like Friar Bacon’s brazen he…
The roses of Love glad the garden… Though nurtur’d 'mid weeds droppin… Till Time crops the leaves with u… Or prunes them for ever, in Love’… In vain, with endearments, we soot…
The ‘Origin of Love!’—Ah why That cruel question ask of me, When thou may’st read in many an e… He starts to life on seeing thee? And should’st thou seek his end to…
My dear Mr. Murray, You’re in a damn 'd hurry, To set up this ultimate Canto; But (if they don’t rob us) You’ll see Mr. Hobhouse
These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense love ora… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…
Sweet girl! though only once we me… That meeting I shall ne’er forget… And though we ne’er may meet again… Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, ‘I love,’ but st…
When the last sunshine of expiring… In summer’s twilight weeps itself… Who hath not felt the softness of… Sink on the heart, as dew along th… With a pure feeling which absorbs…
He who sublime in epic numbers rol… And he who struck the softer lyre… By Death’s unequal hand alike con… Fit comrades in Elysian regions m…