01c. 1806 ADOh for one hour of blind old Dandolo, The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe!Lord Byron / quote ↗
04c. 1806 ADThe cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,—too many, yet how few!Lord Byron / quote ↗
05c. 1806 ADParting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till—'t is gone, and all is gray.Lord Byron / quote ↗
11c. 1806 ADUngrateful Florence! Dante sleeps afar, Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore.Lord Byron / quote ↗
13c. 1806 ADThe hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture.Lord Byron / quote ↗
14c. 1806 ADThen farewell Horace, whom I hated so,— Not for thy faults, but mine.Lord Byron / quote ↗
17c. 1806 ADYet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind.Lord Byron / quote ↗
21c. 1806 ADTully was not so eloquent as thou, Thou nameless column with the buried base.Lord Byron / quote ↗
22c. 1806 ADEgeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.Lord Byron / quote ↗
