An Ode to Byron
By Andrew James Murray
I
Byron! Who sang Love’s sweet song,
For whom Time has not prov’d wrong.
Thy poems resound like the call
Of one who has witness’d all
The folly and pain of man.
To write like thee – no one can.
II
Byron! Of alabaster
Thy skin was forg’d; the master
And inheritor of those
Who wilted in Love’s repose,
Only forgotten in time
Should man turn his back on rhyme.
III
Byron! To read thy soft lays
Is like light on darkest days,
That illumines morbid hearts
To appreciate Love’s darts.
You, that scribed for hearts to nurse,
Taught us to avoid Love’s curse.
IV
Byron! Exil’d, ne’er return’d
To England, whence thou wert spurn’d!
Here and there you went: a spy?
No! Thou wert England’s gadfly!
In an Irish heart, take rest!
For we too are England’s pest!
V
Byron! Who lov’d Liberty
More, alas, than thy safety;
Ye who broke the mould not form’d
Thy early death is e’er mourn’d.
Hollow thy name rings today,
And some to’t lip service pay!
VI
Byron! Ancient Hellas
Has lost her old gravitas;
Her marbles stol’n, her cash bust,
Now to foreigners entrust.
But living in thy poesy,
Her hue remains still rosy.
VII
Byron! Thy Juan beside
Milton’s poem takes place of pride;
Childe Harold, tho’ thou wert not,
For all time won’t be forgot.
All wreaths are given to thee,
But shunned by thy modesty.
VIII
Byron! How great was thy feat!
Tho' deformed one of thy feet,
Limp and blind is god of Love
And he dwells in realms above.
May you rest in hearts of all,
Untouch’d be thy sacred pall.
I was fortunate enough to hear Andrew perform this poem and the internationally recognised 'poetry and pints night' when he came to my university, and I have to say the whole room stood still and I literally did hear a pin drop when he finished his last verse, one woman actually fainted after being overcome with the power of this poem (she was a huge Byron fan)
Hi Andrew and welcome to YWS! To be honest, I'm not the best at rhyme, and the only things I know about Lord Byron come from Greek tour guides and the Wikipedia page I just scanned. Did you know that on the Temple of Poseidon, the block where he (supposedly) carved his name is almost black because so many people touched it? But I digress.
Overall, I really like this. The rhyme flows well and the language is lovely. I just have a few things to point out.
For whom Time has not prov’d wrong.
And some to’t lip service pay!
But shunned by thy modesty.
Hi AndrewJamesMurray, welcome to YWS and thanks for sharing. I've got a few things to say about this:
Firstly, please for the love of God, reformat.
Byron the babe
This guy was certainly well known for his sexual proclivities and women (and probably men) swooned for him. That said, your ode to him does not shy from this fact. It's almost in the sense of that kind of swooning that he would have been fond of.
Thy poems resound like the call Of one who has witness'd all The folly and pain of man.
Only forgotten in time Should man turn his back on rhyme.
Byron! How great was thy feat! Though deformed one of thy feet, Limp and blind is god of Love
Ancient Hellas Has lost her old gravitas; Her marbles stol'n, her cash bust, And to foreigners entrust.
Byron! Exil'd, ne'er return'd To England, whence thou wert spurn'd! Here and there you went: a spy? No! Thou wert England's gadfly! In an Irish heart, take rest! For we too are England's pest!
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