John Keats, from 'To _ (What can I do to drive away)'

In honour of Lord Byron’s birthday

Every day I will celebrate the miracle you are in my life. Every day I will show you in deed and word, with the music that flows from my heart, and the poetry that sings in my palms. I will thank the stars, and say a little prayer for you every night,and hang it in the sky. And when I wake every day I will wrap you up in the dawn, and with a sweet good morning kiss I will hang a smile on your lips.  I will be there for the joys and the sorrows, for the mountain tops and the desert valleys, to embrace your heart and soothe the pains, to hold your hand endlessly. You will always have my arms, my voice, every heartbeat, and song. I will be your friend, and partner, the accomplice of your soul, and for as long as life grants me this miracle that you are, that we are, then I will ever hold gratitude and awe in my heart, a beautiful life that starts anew, every day with an, " I love you."

e.v.e.

R.I.P lord byron, if you were alive today your DMs would've been fucking insane

Sources/Notes: Shelley & his Circle vol. 7 (my photos), Flirting with fame: Byron's anonymous female fans by Corin Throsby, Fangirl(s): Lord Byron edition by Cailey Hall, Lord Byron and Scandalous Celebrity by Clara Tuite, long lock of hair is probably the one mentioned in Byron's Romantic Adventures in Spain by Richard Cardwell, Clairmont Correspondence by Marion Stocking.

"I exist in two places. Here, and where you are."

Margaret Atwood

The short film, I Walk With Ghosts, based on a poem written by me. It’s been around the world and is finally out and available to everyone!

National Portrait Gallery, London

Look at them having their own lil corner with all their buddies

-In the Atermaths

Literally I can't not post this, because we cannot love Byron's poems without acknowledging the fact that yeah, Byron knows exactly what he did and he deserves it.

-Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Lord Byron.

John Keats, from La Belle Dame sans Merci

Thinking about very important things (wondering what Lord Byron’s vocal range was)

There is a part of me that recognized you as soon as it felt you. Eons of time, countless transformations, distances only breached by light, and yet we managed to find each other always. Like we carry not only the stardust that we were but the gravity that bound us together.

e.v.e.

Percy Shelley at the end of a letter to Lord Byron. London, 17 January 1817:

“I have no other news to tell you, my dear Lord Byron, unless you think this is news: that I often talk, and oftener think, of you; and that, though I have not seen you for six months, I still feel the burden of my own insignificance and impotence; as they must ever forbid my interest in your welfare from being put to the proof. Adieu.

Faithfully yours,

P. B. Shelley.”