Related:

• Where'er we tread, 't is haunted, holy ground.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto ii, Stanza 88...
• I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 113...
• Land of lost gods and godlike men.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto ii, Stanza 85...
• Might shake the saintship of an anchorite.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 11...
• My native land, good night!
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 13...
• In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 20...
• I see before me the gladiator lie.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 140...
• Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto i, Stanza 10...
• There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.
  -- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 19...