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Thou Glorious Mirror, Where The Almighty's Form Glasses Itself In Tempests.
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Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824)
-- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 183
Related:
Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 109...
Tully was not so eloquent as thou, Thou nameless column with the buried base.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 110...
Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 42...
Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 115...
The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 69...
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 1...
I see before me the gladiator lie.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 140...
Let these describe the undescribable.
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 53...
And what is writ is writ,-- Would it were worthier!
-- Lord Byron (1788-1824) -- Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 185...