Too often breathed out in a woman's hearing,
When men have shrunk from the ignoble care
Of watching the last hour of him who led them.

_Sardanapalus, A. 1._


Soft, as the memory of buried love;
Pure, as the prayer which childhood wafts above
Was she.

_Bride of Abydos; Canto 1._


She was a soft landscape of mild earth,
Where all was harmony, and calm and quiet,
Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth,
Which, if not happiness, is more nigh it
Than are your mighty passions and so forth,
Which some call "the sublime": I wish they'd try it;
I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women,
And pity lovers rather more than seamen.

_Don Juan, Canto 6._


The tender blue of that large loving eye.

_The Corsair, Canto 1._