The True Story of Lord & Lady Byron

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J. M.
J. C. Hotten, 1869 - 189 pages
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Page 55 - Fare thee well! and if for ever Still for ever, fare thee well Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er can'st know again: Would that breast by thee glanc'd over, Every inmost thought could show!
Page 72 - With a convulsion— then arose again, And with his teeth and quivering hands did tear What he had written, but he shed no tears...
Page 130 - We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its periodical fits of morality.
Page 131 - ... expiatory sacrifice. If he has children, they are to be taken from him. If he has a profession, he is to be driven from it. He is cut by the higher orders, and hissed by the lower." He is, in truth, a sort of whipping-boy, by whose vicarious agonies, all the other transgressors of the same class are, it is supposed, sufficiently chastised. We reflect very complacently on our own severity, and compare with great pride the high standard of morals established in England, with the Parisian laxity....
Page 64 - Twas folly not sooner to shun : And if dearly that error hath cost me, And more than I once could foresee, I have found that, whatever it lost me, It could not deprive me of thee.
Page 70 - t were the cape of a long ridge of such, Save that there was no sea to lave its base, But a most living landscape...
Page 74 - I saw him stand Before an altar — with a gentle bride ; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The starlight of his Boyhood.
Page 34 - Those thou never more may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ; Pride, which not a world could bow. Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now...
Page 62 - He fed on poisons, and they had no power, But were a kind of nutriment ; he lived Through that which had been death to many men, And made him friends of mountains : with the stars And the quick Spirit of the Universe He held his dialogues, and they did teach To him the magic of their mysteries ; To him the book of Night was opened wide, And voices from the deep abyss revealed A marvel and a secret.
Page 56 - Hearts can thus be torn away: Still thine own its life retaineth, Still must mine, though bleeding, beat ; And the undying thought which paineth Is — that we no more may meet. These are words of deeper sorrow Than the wail above the dead ; Both shall live, but every morrow Wake us from a widow'd bed. And when thou wouldst solace gather, When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say ' Father ! ' Though his care she must forego?

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