George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)
“But I have lived, and have not lived in vain:
my mind may lose its force, my blood its fire,
and my frame perish even in conquering pain;
but there is that within me which shall tire
torture and time, and breathe when I expire;
Something unearthly, which they deem not of,
Like the remember’d tone of a mute lyre,
Shall on their soften’d spirits sink, and move
In hearts all rocky now the late remorse of love.”
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788 – 1824) “Childe Harolde’s Pilgrimage,” Canto IV, Stanza 137
Michael Lemon Portfolio 