Truly the epitome of the Romantic Poet, Lord Byron traveled and loved throughout Europe and wrote picaresque verse that proved immensely popular to audiences of his day. The man whose name is synonymous with romance gave his life in the noble cause of Greek liberty at the young age of thirty-six.
Byron's love lyrics-like his epic works, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and Don Juan -cast light on his legendary amorous exploits. The poems range from his schoolboy imitation of Catullus, to the poems praising such early loves as Mary Chaworth and Theresa Macri, to the tender lyrics for his half sister, Augusta Leigh, and poignant reflections on a failed marriage in "Fare Thee Well." Byron's poetry reveals a complex mix of self-revelation and breadth of knowledge plus an artistically modern sensibility.
This selection of forty-four poems includes an introduction to Byron's life and notes on individual poems. Portraits of the various women in Byron's life contribute to this handsome collector's edition.
The Love Poems of Lord A Romantic's Passion is the seventh volume in a poetry series that already includes The Poems of Love by William Shakespeare, The Love Poems of John Donne, Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, A Poet to His The Early Poems of W.B. Yeats, Sonnets from the A Celebration of Love by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and The Love Poems of John In Praise of Beauty.
George Gordon Byron (invariably known as Lord Byron), later Noel, 6th Baron Byron of Rochdale FRS was a British poet and a leading figure in Romanticism. Amongst Byron's best-known works are the brief poems She Walks in Beauty, When We Two Parted, and So, we'll go no more a roving, in addition to the narrative poems Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and Don Juan. He is regarded as one of the greatest British poets and remains widely read and influential, both in the English-speaking world and beyond.
Byron's notabilty rests not only on his writings but also on his life, which featured upper-class living, numerous love affairs, debts, and separation. He was notably described by Lady Caroline Lamb as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know". Byron served as a regional leader of Italy's revolutionary organization, the Carbonari, in its struggle against Austria. He later travelled to fight against the Ottoman Empire in the Greek War of Independence, for which Greeks revere him as a national hero. He died from a fever contracted while in Messolonghi in Greece.
Recite one of Lord Byron's poems to a young lady who has just emerged from the jaws of death, and she will fall in love with you in an instant. Why, I consider Lord Byron my greatest ally in the word of amorous endeavours.
It was great to finally read some Byron, and just after Pushkin too, which was nice. The poems were easy to read and frequently touched upon the subject of longing. I'm still a fledgling poetry scholar, so I look forward to reading more Byron in the future.
I’m not the biggest fan of his style but I can’t deny how iconic the inclusion of “Stanzas to a lady on leaving England” (where he repeatedly claims that he “cannot love but one”) right after “to Caroline”, “to Emma”, and “to Lesbia”. Comedy gold.
Absolute drivel. I’m glad this fool was exiled from England several times, this is dog water. Cannot believe I finished this but it was short. 0 stars honestly, but 1 feels more disrespectful.
This is a lovely small volume of poetry, the pieces span Byron's entire life. Most of the themes are about longing, and they're very romantic. My rating does not reflect the marvellous experience of reading poetry out loud with someone else. It's how poetry should be read.
This is a very nice little collection of poetry that includes an excellent overview of George Gordon Byron’s life in the introduction. He certainly led an interesting life; he was ruled by his passions and died young, at age 36. His poetry reflects love in many different stages and forms, and while few take love to the limits Byron did, his work is easy to identify with and this is an enjoyable read.
Quotes: On adultery, from Remember Him Whom Passion's Power: ---------------------------------------------- “Oh God! that we had met in time, Our hearts as fond, thy hand more free; When thou hadst loved without a crime, And I been less unworthy thee!”
On breaking up, When We Two Parted: ------------------------------- “When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow - It felt like the warning of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame.
They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me - Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well: - Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met - In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears.”
On breaking up (divorce) from Fare Thee Well: ------------------------------------- “All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go.
Every feeling hath been shaken; Pride, which not a world could bow, Bows to thee - by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me know; ... Fare thee well! - thus disunited, Torn from every nearer tie, Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted, More than this I scarce can die.”
On desire, from Imitated from Callus: ------------------------------ “Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire: Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: Nought should my kiss from thine dissever; Still would we kiss, and kiss for ever...”
On love, from To a Beautiful Quaker: ----------------------------- “Sweet girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne'er forget; And though we ne'er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, "I love," but still My senses struggle with my will: In vain, to drive thee from my breast...”
On love, from Stanzas to Augusta: --------------------------- “In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.”
On love lost, from To a Lady: ----------------------- “But now I seek for other joys: To think would drive my soul to madness; In thoughtless throngs and empty noise, I conquer half my bosom's sadness.
Yet even in these a thought will steal, In spite of every vain endeavor; And fiends might pity what I feel, - To know that thou art lost for ever.”
On love lost, from Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not: ---------------------------------------- “Remind me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish'd hours, When all my soul was given to thee; Hours that may never be forgot, Till time unnerves our vital powers, And thou and I shall cease to be.
Can I forget - canst thou forget, When playing with thy golden hair, How quick thy fluttering heart did move? Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet, With eyes so languid, breast so fair, And lips, though silent, breathing love...”
On love lost, from Stanzas to a Lady on Leaving England: --------------------------------------------- “As some lone bird, without a mate, My weary heart is desolate; I look around, and cannot trace One friendly smile or welcome face, And ev'n in crowds am still alone, Because I cannot love but one. ... 'T would soothe to take one lingering view, And bless thee in my last adieu; Yet wish I not those eyes to weep; For him that wanders o'er the deep; His home, his hope, his youth are gone, Yet still he loves, and loves but one.”
On love unrequited, from To -: ------------------------ “But once I dared to lift my eyes, To lift my eyes to thee; And, since that day, beneath the skies, No other sight they see.
In vain sleep shuts them in the night, The night grows day to me, Presenting idly to my sight What still a dream must be.
A fatal dream - for many a bar Divides thy fate from mine; And still my passions wake and war, But peace be still with thine.”
On old age, from So We'll Go No More A-Roving: -------------------------------------- “So we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.”
One can’t deny the beauty of Byron’s writing. He deserves his place among the truly great authors. I’m deducting a star because I, personally, have a hard time appreciating love poetry written by a man with a woman in every town, so to speak. “Oh I love you so it is so torturous so leave you” grow up
Beginning to understand what all the fuss is about, why he's captivated generations and managed to inspire Frankenstein's monster, Heathcliff and Rochester to boot.
His love poems are fab but as a man, he was always a misogynist skunk. Nevertheless "...I would not fools should overhear....one single sigh that should be wholly thine..."....and I don't know why...but rumours of bisexuality always make those "young romantics" more "hot"....except Shelley, he was a doped-out bore...lol.