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" My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! "
Fly - Page 64
1839
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 17

1825
...move ; Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love ! My days are in the yellow leaf; The Hewers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Arc mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled...
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The New monthly magazine and universal register. [Continued as ..., Volume 51

...unmoved, Since others it has ceased to move ; Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of...gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alono ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its...
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The Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine

Arminianism - 1876
...birthday, he describes his miserable condition : " My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and frnitB of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone." Here, again, we are haunted by the sad features of his early life, the lack of true and good home training...
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Conversations of Lord Byron, 1: Notes During a Residence with His Lordship ...

Thomas Medwin - 1824 - 351 pages
...unmoved, Since others it has ceased to move; Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of...my bosom preys Is like to some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze— A funeral pile. The hope, the fears, the jealous care, • Th' exalted...
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Journal of the conversations of lord Byron ... in the years 1821 and 1822

Thomas Medwin - 1825
...unmoved, Since others it has ceased to move; Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of...in my bosom preys Is like to some volcanic isle; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile. The hope, the fears, the jealous care, Th' exalted...
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The Life, Writings, Opinions, and Times of the Right Hon. George Gordon Noel ...

Poets, English - 1825 - 431 pages
...unmoved, Since others it has ceased to move ; Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of...my bosom preys, Is like to some volcanic isle, No torch is kindled at its blaze ; — A funeral' pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, Th' exalted...
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 17

England - 1825
...unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move ; Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love ! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of...canker, and the grief, Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze Л funeral pile...
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The Last Days of Lord Byron: With His Lordship's Opinions on Various ...

William Parry - British - 1825 - 360 pages
...Since others it hath ceased to move ; Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love ! " My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of...canker, and the grief, Are mine alone ! " The fire that on my bosom preys, Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile...
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A narrative of Lord Byron's last journey to Greece: Extracted from the ...

Pietro Gamba (conte) - British - 1825 - 307 pages
...Since others it hath ceased to move ; Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love ! 2. My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of...canker, and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile...
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The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.), J W. Lake - 1825
...unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move; Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of...canker, and the grief, Are mine alone! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle; Xo torch is kindled at its blare— A funeral pile!...
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