The lightnings trembled And in thy Silence was his Sentence, And in his Soul a vain repentance, And evil dread so ill dissembled, That in his hand the lightnings trembled. Lord Byron, Prometheus idefiancesilence
Epitaph to a Dog A Poem by Lord Byron Show image 0 Show image 1 Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn, Pass on, it honours none you wish to mourn. To mark a friend's remains these stones arise; I never knew but one — and here he lies. deathfriendship