Quote #88
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
More from Lord Byron
- For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.
- When all of genius which can perish dies.
- The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like …
- Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
- She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her…
- Who track the steps of glory to the grave.
- He left a corsair's name to other times, Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.
- Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, And broke the die, in molding Sheridan.