For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill
And their hearts but once heaved and for ever grew still
George Gordon Byron
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There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
There is a rapture on the lonely shore
There is society where none intrudes
By the deep sea and music in its roar
I love not man the less but Nature more
- George Gordon Byron -
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A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.
- George Gordon Byron -