Related:

• This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 85...
• In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 20...
• Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 1...
• And there was mounting in hot haste.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 25...
• And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 32...
• By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 71...
• In solitude, where we are least alone.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 90...
• On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 86...
• Or whispering with white lips, "The foe! They come!
  hey come!" -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 25...