Lord Byron Quotes on Love
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When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past- For years fleet away with the wings of the dove- The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
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I only know we loved in vain; I only feel-farewell! farewell!
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Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh give me back my heart!
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The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow.
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Fare thee well! and if forever, Still forever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
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There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me.
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Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate: And, whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate.
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Were't the last drop in the well, As I gasp'd upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell 'T is to thee that I would drink.
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My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of Love are gone; The worm - the canker, and the grief Are mine alone!
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The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the music breathing from her face, 19 The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,- And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
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The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name.
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She was a form of life and light That seen, became a part of sight, And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The morning-star of memory! Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire With angels shared, by Alla given, To lift from earth our low desire.
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And to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him.
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She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all.
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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.
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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.
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Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.
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His heart was one of those which most enamour us, Wax to receive, and marble to retain: He was a lover of the good old school, Who still become more constant as they cool.
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Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.