George Gordon Byron

[Lord Byron] (22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824 / London, England)

Comments about George Gordon Byron

  • Diogo Cabral (6/7/2020 2:02:00 PM)

    For all the poems by Lord Byron check this website: https: //.lordbyronpoetry/
    It has all Lord Byron's poems.

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  • JudithALegge (5/29/2020 7:55:00 AM)

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  • Truthbomb McGee (6/25/2018 11:41:00 PM)

    How the is THE Lord Byron 117th on this website, this is absolute garbage. Lord Byron was an amzing poet and leader of the romantic movement.

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  • hasan (11/23/2017 7:12:00 AM)

    Why isn't information full about Byron?

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  • Sylva Portoian Sylva Portoian (3/16/2012 2:30:00 PM)

    * Byron with the Armenians Spirits in Venice
    In 1816, Byron visited Saint Lazarus Island in Venice, where he acquainted himself with Armenian culture with the help of the abbots belonging to the Mechitarist Order. With the help of Father H. Avgerian, he learned the Armenian language, and attended many seminars about language and history. He wrote English Grammar and Armenian in 1817, and Armenian Grammar and English in 1819, where he included quotations from classical and modern Armenian. Byron also participated in the compilation of the English Armenian dictionary in 1821, and wrote the preface in which he explained the relationship of the Armenians with and the oppression of the Turkish pashas and the Persian satraps, and their struggle of liberation. His two main translations are the Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, two chapters of Movses Khorenatsi's History of Armenia and sections of Nerses of Lambron's Orations. His fascination was so great that he even considered a replacement of the Cain story of the Bible with that of the legend of Armenian patriarch Haik. He may be credited with the birth of Armenology and its propagation. His profound lyricism and ideological courage has inspired many Armenian poets, the likes of Ghevond Alishan, Smbat Shahaziz, Hovhannes Tumanyan, Ruben Vorberian and others.

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Best Poem of George Gordon Byron

I Speak Not, I Trace Not, I Breathe Not Thy Name

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours - can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain, -
We will part, we will fly to - unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me, adored one! - forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which is thine shall expire ...

Read the full of I Speak Not, I Trace Not, I Breathe Not Thy Name

Love's Last Adieu

The roses of Love glad the garden of life,
Though nurtur'd 'mid weeds dropping pestilent dew,
Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife,
Or prunes them for ever, in Love's last adieu!

In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart,
In vain do we vow for an age to be true;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
Or Death disunite us, in Love's last adieu!