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The works of Lord Byron

A new, revised and enlarged edition, with illustrations. Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge and R. E. Prothero
Byron, George Gordon Byron (1788-1824)

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Vol. I. HOURS OF IDLENESS AND OTHER EARLY POEMS.
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Vol. II.
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Vol. III.
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POEMS 1809–1813.
  
THE GIRL OF CADIZ.
  
LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, AT MALTA.
  
TO FLORENCE.
  
STANZAS COMPOSED DURING A THUNDERSTORM.
  
STANZAS WRITTEN IN PASSING THE AMBRACIAN GULF.
  
THE SPELL IS BROKE, THE CHARM IS FLOWN!
  
WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS.
  
LINES IN THE TRAVELLERS' BOOK AT ORCHOMENUS.
  
MAID OF ATHENS, ERE WE PART.
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FRAGMENT FROM THE “MONK OF ATHOS.”
  
LINES WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE.
  
TRANSLATION OF THE FAMOUS GREEK WAR SONG, “Δευτε παιδες των Ελληνων.”
  
TRANSLATION OF THE ROMAIC SONG, “Μπενω μεσ' το περιβολι, Ωραιοτατη Χαηδη,” κ.τ.λ.
  
ON PARTING.
  
FAREWELL TO MALTA.
  
NEWSTEAD ABBEY.
  
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND,
  
TO THYRZA.
  
AWAY, AWAY, YE NOTES OF WOE!
  
ONE STRUGGLE MORE, AND I AM FREE.
  
EUTHANASIA.
  
AND THOU ART DEAD, AS YOUNG AND FAIR.
  
LINES TO A LADY WEEPING.
  
IF SOMETIMES IN THE HAUNTS OF MEN.
  
ON A CORNELIAN HEART WHICH WAS BROKEN.
  
THE CHAIN I GAVE.
  
LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY.
  
ADDRESS, SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1812.
  
PARENTHETICAL ADDRESS.
  
VERSES FOUND IN A SUMMER-HOUSE AT HALES-OWEN.
  
REMEMBER THEE! REMEMBER THEE!
  
TO TIME.
  
TRANSLATION OF A ROMAIC LOVE SONG.
  
THOU ART NOT FALSE, BUT THOU ART FICKLE.
  
ON BEING ASKED WHAT WAS THE “ORIGIN OF LOVE.”
  
ON THE QUOTATION, “And my true faith can alter never, Though thou art gone perhaps for ever.”
  
REMEMBER HIM, WHOM PASSION'S POWER.
  
IMPROMPTU, IN REPLY TO A FRIEND.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
FROM THE PORTUGUESE.
  
THE GIAOUR:
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THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS.
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THE CORSAIR:
  
ODE TO NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE.
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LARA:
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HEBREW MELODIES.
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POEMS 1814–1816.
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THE SIEGE OF CORINTH.
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PARISINA.
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POEMS OF THE SEPARATION.
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Vol. IV.
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Vol. V.
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[volume]

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SONNET.

TO GENEVRA.

Thine eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair,
And the warm lustre of thy features—caught
From contemplation—where serenely wrought,
Seems Sorrow's softness charmed from its despair—
Have thrown such speaking sadness in thine air,
That—but I know thy blessed bosom fraught
With mines of unalloyed and stainless thought—
I should have deemed thee doomed to earthly care.
With such an aspect, by his colours blent,
When from his beauty-breathing pencil born,
(Except that thou hast nothing to repent)
The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn—
Such seem'st thou—but how much more excellent!
With nought Remorse can claim—nor Virtue scorn.
December 17, 1813.
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