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Lord Byron

George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron FRS (22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824), known simply as Lord Byron, was an English poet, peer, and politician who became a revolutionary in the Greek War of Independence, and is considered one of the historical leading figures of the Romantic movement of his era. He is regarded as one of the greatest English poets and remains widely read and influential.

Lord Byron:

Don Juan

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′All Is Vanity,′ Saith the Preacher
A Spirit Passed Before Me
Adieu, Adieu! My Native Land
And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
Bride of Abydos, The
By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept
Churchill′s Grave
Damgtas
Darkness
Don Juan
Epistle To Augusta
Euthanasia
Farewell To The Muse
For Music
I Saw Thee Weep
I Speak Not
I Would I Were a Careless Child
I would to heaven that I were so much clay
Isles of Greece, The
It Is the Hour
John Keats
Lachin Y Gair
Lara
Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull
Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow
Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill
Love′s Last Adieu
Maid of Athens, ere we part
Mazeppa
My Soul is Dark
Ode to Napoleon Bonaparte
Oh! Snatched Away In Beauty′s Bloom
Oh! Weep for Those
On A Distant View Of Harrow
On Chillon
On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year
Prometheus
Remember Him, Whom Passion′s Power
Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not
Reply to Some Verses of J.M.B. Pigot, Esq.
Saul
She Walks In Beauty
Siege and Conquest of Alhama, The
So We′ll Go No More a-Roving
Solitude
Song of Saul Before His Last Battle
Sonnet - to Genevra
Sonnet to Lake Leman
Stanzas Composed During A Thunderstorm
Stanzas For Music
Stanzas For Music: There′s Not A Joy The World Can Give
Stanzas To A Lady, On Leaving England
Stanzas To Augusta
Stanzas To Jessy
Stanzas To The Po
Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa
Sun of the Sleepless!
The Bride of Abydos
The Destruction Of Sennacherib
The Dream
The Giaour
The Isles of Greece
The Prisoner of Chillon
The Siege and Conquest of Alhama
The Siege of Corinth
The Tear
The Vision of Judgment
There Be None of Beauty′s Daughters
There Was A Time, I Need Not Name
Thou Whose Spell Can Raise the Dead
Thy Days Are Done
To A Beautiful Quaker
To A Lady
To Caroline
To Eliza
To M
To M. S. G.
To Mary, On Receiving Her Picture
To Romance
To Thomas Moore
To Thyrza: And Thou Art Dead
To Time
We′ll go no more a-roving
When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay
When We Two Parted
Written After Swimming From Sestos To Abydos