Quote #91
Who track the steps of glory to the grave.
More from Lord Byron
- Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
- Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, And broke the die, in molding Sheridan.
- When all of genius which can perish dies.
- And both were young, and one was beautiful.
- And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
- And to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him.
- For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.
- She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all.