Category Lord Byron

This day, of all our days, has done   The worst for me and you:—‘T is just six years since we were one,   And five since we were two.

When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home,       Let him combat for that of his neighbours;Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome,       And get knocked on the head for his…

   Dear Murray,—             You ask for a “Volume of Nonsense,”   Have all of your authors exhausted their store?I thought you had published a good deal not long since.   And doubtless the Squadron are ready with…

Would you go to the house by the true gate,      Much faster than ever Whig Charley went;Let Parliament send you to Newgate,      And Newgate will send you to Parliament. April 9, 1820.

New Song to the tune of “Whare hae ye been a’ day,   My boy Tammy O?Courting o’ a young thing   Just come frae her Mammie O.” 1. How came you in Hob’s pound to cool,   My boy Hobbie O?Because I bade…

The world is a bundle of hay,  Mankind are the asses who pull;Each tugs it a different way,—  And the greatest of all is John Bull!

Posterity will ne’er survey   A nobler grave than this;Here lie the bones of Castlereagh:   Stop traveller, * *

     From the French of Rulhières.       In digging up your bones, Tom Paine,          Will. Cobbett has done well:      You visit him on Earth again,          He’ll visit you in…

With Death doomed to grapple,       Beneath this cold slab, heWho lied in the Chapel       Now lies in the Abbey.

Here’s a happy New Year! but with reason   I beg you’ll permit me to say—Wish me many returns of the Season,But as few as you please of the Day