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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Page 548

 
 
George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron. (1788–1824) (continued)
 
I wantoned with thy breakers,
     .     .     .     .     .
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane,—as I do here. 1
          Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 184.
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    And what is writ is writ,—
Would it were worthier!
          Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 185.
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    Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been,—
A sound which makes us linger; yet—farewell!
          Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 186.
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    Hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
          The Waltz.
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    He who hath bent him o’er the dead
Ere the first day of death is fled,—
The first dark day of nothingness,
The last of danger and distress,
Before decay’s effacing fingers
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.
          The Giaour. Line 68.
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    Such is the aspect of this shore;
’T is Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
          The Giaour. Line 90.
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    Shrine of the mighty! can it be
That this is all remains of thee?
          The Giaour. Line 106.
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    For freedom’s battle, once begun,
Bequeath’d by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won.
          The Giaour. Line 123.
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    And lovelier things have mercy shown
To every failing but their own;
And every woe a tear can claim,
Except an erring sister’s shame.
          The Giaour. Line 418.
 
Note 1.
He laid his hand upon “the ocean’s mane,”
And played familiar with his hoary locks.
Robert Pollok: The Course of Time, book iv. line 389. [back]