Quote #99
But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar.
More from Lord Byron
- Mont Blanc is the Monarch of mountains; They crowned him long ago, On a throne of rocks - in a robe of clouds - With a Diadem of Snow.
- Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine Have made my days and nights imperishable Endless, a…
- And they were canopied by the blue sky, So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful That God alone was to be seen in heaven.
- The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old! The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
- A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
- So, we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.
- She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all.
- For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.