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Lord Byron
Quote #67
Shrine of the mighty! can it be That this is all remains of thee?
More from Lord Byron
Such is the aspect of this shore; 'T is Greece, but living Greece no more! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting t…
For freedom's battle, once begun, Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son, Though baffled oft, is ever won.
He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled,- The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress,…
And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own, And every woe a tear can claim Except an erring sister's shame.
Hark! to the hurried question of despair: 'Where is my child?'-an echo answers, 'Where?'
The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease! He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!
Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock.
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