He rush'd into the field, and foremost fighting fell.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
-- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 23
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
-- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 23
Related:
- All tenantless, save to the crannying wind.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - And there was mounting in hot haste.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.
Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage... - But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - On the ear
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage... - Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza... - Battle's magnificently stern array.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza...
