The Golden Treasury of the best songs and lyrical poems in the English Language |
 |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| CCVIII. |
| CCIX. |
| CCX. |
| CCXI. |
| CCXII. |
| CCXIII. |
| CCXIV. |
| CCXV. |
| CCXVI. |
| CCXVII. |
| CCXVIII. |
| CCXIX. |
| CCXX. |
| CCXXI. |
| CCXXII. |
| CCXXIII. |
| CCXXIV. |
| CCXXV. |
| CCXXVI. |
| CCXXVII. |
| CCXXVIII. |
| CCXXIX. |
| CCXXX. |
| CCXXXI. |
| CCXXXII. |
| CCXXXIII. |
| CCXXXIV. |
| CCXXXV. |
| CCXXXVI. |
| CCXXXVII. |
| CCXXXVIII. |
| CCXXXIX. |
| CCXL. |
| CCXLI. |
| CCXLII. |
| CCXLIII. |
| CCXLIV. |
| CCXLV. |
| CCXLVI. |
| CCXLVII. |
| CCXLVIII. |
| CCXLIX. |
| CCL. |
| CCLI. |
| CCLII. |
| CCLIII. |
| CCLIV. |
| CCLV. |
| CCLVI. |
| CCLVII. |
| CCLVIII. |
| CCLIX. |
| CCLX. |
| CCLXI. |
| CCLXII. |
| CCLXIII. |
| CCLXIV. |
| CCLXV. |
| CCLXVI. |
| CCLXVII. |
| CCLXVIII. |
| CCLXIX. |
| CCLXX. |
| CCLXXI. |
| CCLXXII. |
| CCLXXIII. |
| CCLXXIV. |
| CCLXXV. | CCLXXV
ELEGY
|
| CCLXXVI. |
| CCLXXVII. |
| CCLXXVIII. |
| CCLXXIX. |
| CCLXXX. |
| CCLXXXI. |
| CCLXXXII. |
| CCLXXXIII. |
| CCLXXXIV. |
| CCLXXXV. |
| CCLXXXVI. |
| CCLXXXVII. |
| CCLXXXVIII. |
| CCLXXXIX. |
| CCXC. |
| CCXCI. |
| CCXCII. |
| CCXCIII. |
| CCXCIV. |
| CCXCV. |
| CCXCVI. |
| CCXCVII. |
| CCXCVIII. |
| CCXCIX. |
| CCC. |
| CCCI. |
| CCCII. |
| CCCIII. |
| CCCIV. |
| CCCV. |
| CCCVI. |
| CCCVII. |
| CCCVIII. |
| CCCIX. |
| CCCX. |
| CCCXI. |
| CCCXII. |
| CCCXIII. |
| CCCXIV. |
| CCCXV. |
| CCCXVI. |
| CCCXVII. |
| CCCXVIII. |
| CCCXIX. |
| CCCXX. |
| CCCXXI. |
| CCCXXII. |
| CCCXXIII. |
| CCCXXIV. |
| CCCXXV. |
| CCCXXVI. |
| CCCXXVII. |
| CCCXXVIII. |
| CCCXXIX. |
| CCCXXX. |
| CCCXXXI. |
| CCCXXXII. |
| CCCXXXIII. |
| CCCXXXIV. |
| CCCXXXV. |
| CCCXXXVI. |
| CCCXXXVII. |
| CCCXXXVIII. |
| CCCXXXIX. |
|
 | The Golden Treasury |  |
262
CCLXXV
ELEGY
Oh snatch'd away in beauty's bloom!
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year,
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year,
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:
And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And feed deep thought with many a dream,
And lingering pause and lightly tread;
Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And feed deep thought with many a dream,
And lingering pause and lightly tread;
Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Away! we know that tears are vain,
That Death nor heeds nor hears distress:
Will this unteach us to complain?
Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou, who tell'st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.
That Death nor heeds nor hears distress:
Will this unteach us to complain?
Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou, who tell'st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.
Lord Byron
| The Golden Treasury | |