George Gordon

2/3/10

We discussed Lord Byron today in 19th Century British Literature today, and we talked about how that Byron himself was the first "Byronic hero," and how he wasn't happy with the life he was living but saw no alternative that he wanted in the society around him, for various reasons. We had read his poem Manfred for class, and Manfred (Byron's most developed Byronic hero, to my knowledge) is suicidal, unhappy, racked with guilt, and wants nothing to do with either Hell or Heaven (he does believe both exist, and that's a different topic). Anyway, he wants to do everything on his own, forge his own path--and he thinks that he does, but he really doesn't.

So I was pondering over what we had talked about, then grabbed my handy notebook (TIP: Always carry a notebook and pencil or pen with you. It's useful) and wrote a poem about Byron. It's currently untitled and is drawn from my reading of Byron's biography in my textbook and the class discussion. It's still a bit rough, but I thought, "Hey, I'm not going to try and sell my poem response, so I'll share it." Also, I'll probably still tweak it.

Byron was an unhappy man,
A self-tortured, sensitive seeker,
Racked and pained with guilt.
He wandered to and fro in many lands
But never found that something better,
That something beautiful and full of lilt.
He was trained in the way to go
But departed from it while young and old.
He mocked himself and mourned his losses
But envied those who bore none of his woe.
All his life he pretended to be bold
And that neither Heaven nor Hell were his bosses
But he never realized that true honest joy
Comes from a surrendered self and real repentance
And trust in a forgiving God.
Instead Byron chose to treat life as a toy
And chose agony as a sort of dark penance,
Spurning both green leas and guiding rod.
I admire his poetry, for he knew how to write,
But I wonder what he'd of written if untortured by fright.

-Ashlee