Books with author George Byron

Often acknowledged as Byron's masterpiece, "Don Juan" is an epic poem, comprised of seventeen cantos, which follows an irreverent young man on his European adventures and reflects upon many of the experiences universal to man. From a forbidden love affair in Spain to exile in Italy, from being shipwrecked in Greece to slavery in Russia, Don Juan's adventures provide Byron with an exquisite framework of high drama to discuss and often mock Western societies with coarse humor and extreme satire. Interwoven in this innovative work are Byron's discussions on such topics as social convention, war, and, perhaps most significantly, human nature, with a vindication of all of natural man's gracious and ignoble impulses, in an elaborate and memorable criticism of modern human life.

TO IANTHE Lady Charlotte Harley, daughter of the Earl of Oxford. Not in those climes where I have late been straying, Though Beauty long hath there been matchless deemed, Not in those visions to the heart displaying Forms which it sighs but to have only dreamed, Hath aught like thee in truth or fancy seemed: Nor, having seen thee, shall I vainly seek To paint those charms which varied as they beamed— To such as see thee not my words were weak; To those who gaze on thee, what language could they speak? Ah! mayst thou ever be what now thou art, Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring, As fair in form, as warm yet pure in heart, Love's image upon earth without his wing, And guileless beyond Hope's imagining! And surely she who now so fondly rears Thy youth, in thee, thus hourly brightening, Beholds the rainbow of her future years, Before whose heavenly hues all sorrow disappears. Young Peri of the West!—'tis well for me My years already doubly number thine; My loveless eye unmoved may gaze on thee, And safely view thy ripening beauties shine: Happy, I ne'er shall see them in decline; Happier, that while all younger hearts shall bleed Mine shall escape the doom thine eyes assign To those whose admiration shall succeed, But mixed with pangs to Love's even loveliest hours decreed. Oh! let that eye, which, wild as the gazelle's, Now brightly bold or beautifully shy, Wins as it wanders, dazzles where it dwells, Glance o'er this page, nor to my verse deny That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh, Could I to thee be ever more than friend: This much, dear maid, accord; nor question why To one so young my strain I would commend, But bid me with my wreath one matchless lily blend. Such is thy name with this my verse entwined; And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be first beheld, forgotten last: My days once numbered, should this homage past Attract thy fairy fingers near the lyre Of him who hailed thee, loveliest as thou wast, Such is the most my memory may desire; Though more than Hope can claim, could Friendship less require?

Excerpt from Childe Harold's PilgrimageBut spent his days in riot most uncouth, And rex'd with mirth the drowsy ear of Night. Ah, me! In sooth he was a shameless wight, Sore given to revel and ungodly glee; Few earthly things found favor in his sight Save concubines and carnal companie.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.