Zitate von Lord George Gordon Byron

Informationen über Lord George Gordon Byron

Poet, "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage", "Cain", "Lara", galt außerhalb Englands als "schillernde Persönlichkeit" mit großem Einfluß (England, 1788 - 1824).

Lord George Gordon Byron · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum

Lord George Gordon Byron wäre heute 237 Jahre, 2 Monate, 11 Tage oder 86.633 Tage alt.

Geboren am 22.01.1788 in London
Gestorben am 19.04.1824 in Missolunghi
Sternzeichen: ♒ Wassermann

• All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.

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• And as the he knew not what to say, he swore.

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• And Coleridge, too, has lately taken wing, But, like a hawk encumbered with his hood, Explaining metaphysics to the nation- I wish he would explain his explanation.

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• And glory, like the phoenix midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

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• And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep.

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• 

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• And is this blood, then, formed but to be shed? Can every element our elements mar? And air-earth-water-fire live-and we dead? We, whose minds comprehend all things?

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• And she for him had given Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven!

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• And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, / When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

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• And thus they form a group that's quite antique, Half naked, loving, natural, and Greek.

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• And when the gorgeous coffin was laid low, It seemed the mockery of hell to fold The rottenness of eighty years in gold.

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• And when the tumult dwindled to a calm, I left him practising the hundredth psalm.

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• And when we think we lead, we are most led.
  • Paul Catty spricht . . .

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• And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but The truth in masquerade.
  • Paul Catty spricht . . .

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• As he drew near, he gazed upon the gate Ne'er to be entered more by him or Sin, With such a glance of supernatural hate, As made Saint Peter wish himself within; He pattered with his keys at a great rate, And sweated through his apostolic skin: Of course his perspiration was but ichor, Or some such other spiritual liquor.

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• Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of prayer! Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of love!

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• Be warm, but pure; be amorous, but be chaste.

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• Beside the jutting rock the few appeared, Like the last remnant of the red-deer's herd; Their eyes were feverish, and their aspect worn, But still the hunter's blood was on their horn, A little stream came tumbling from the height, And straggling into ocean as it might, Its bounding crystal frolicked in the ray, And gushed from cliff to crag with saltless spray . . . To this young spring they rushed, - all feelings first Absorbed in passion's and in nature's thirst,- Drank as they do whodrink their last, and threw Their arms aside to revel in its dew; Cooled their scorched throats, and washed the gory stains From wounds whose only bandage might be chains.

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• Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be!

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• Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred, Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head.

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• But I have lived, and have not lived in vain: My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, And my frame perish even in conquering pain; But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire.

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