A Quote by Lord Byron

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented. — © Lord Byron
A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.
Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not to-day; Still forward press, nor never tire! The possible, with steadfast trust, Resolve should be by the forelock grasp. Then she will ne'er let go her clasp, And labors on, because she must.
Alas! the praise given to the ear Ne'er was nor ne'er can be sincere.
I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Wouldst thou wisely, and with pleasure, Pass the days of life's short measure, From the slow one counsel take, But a tool of him ne'er make; Ne'er as friend the swift one know, Nor the constant one as foe.
Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Tis strange the miser should his cares employTo gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy;Is it less strange the prodigal should wasteHis wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste?
She ne'er was really charming till she died.
Fro and to in my dreams to you To the haunting tune of the harp For the price I paid when you died that day I paid that day with my heart Fro and to in my dreams to you With the breaking of my heart Ne'er more again will I sing this song Ne'er more will I hear the harp.
She who ne'er answers till a husband cools, Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules; Charms by accepting, by submitting, sways, Yet has her humor most, when she obeys.
The argument that women who become pregnant have in some sense consented to the pregnancy belies realityand others who are the inevitable losers in the contraceptive lottery no more 'consent' to pregnancy than pedestrians 'consent' to being struck by drunk drivers.'
A little too wise, they say, do ne'er live long.
But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.
O soul, be changed into little waterdrops, / And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!
For ebbing resolution ne'er returns, But falls still further from its former shore.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!