Lord Byron born January 22, 1788 and passed away April 19, 1824 in Missolonghi, Greece due to fever and exposure while engaged in the Greek struggle for independence.
As a child Lord Byron was simply known as George Noel Gordon and as having born with a clubfoot, he was taken by his mother to Aberdeen, Scotland where they lived in lodgings on a meager income. He definitely was affected by his lameness and it left a detrimental affect upon his personal character.
At the age of ten he inherited the titles and the estates of his great uncle the contemptuous Lord Byron. Returning to England Young Lord Byron fell in love with the ghostly halls and expansive grounds of the Newstead Abbey which had been presented to the family by King Henry VIII.
In 1801 Lord Byron went to Harrow where he formed friendships with the younger boys and it was at this time he fostered a romantic attachment to the school. It has been thought that these early friendships gave the first urge to his sexual ambivalence which became more pronounced at Cambridge and later in Greece.
Lord Byron's poetic career actually started in 1806 when some of his early works were suppressed and followed in 1807 with the release of "Hours of Idleness", which the Edinburgh Review savagely attacked. In 1812 Lord Byron released the first two cantos of "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" and was received with acclamation, which made him instantly famous.
Jumping forward to February 15, 1824 when Lord Byron fell ill, it would not be long until ill fate would kill Lord Byron. In early April, 1824 while caught outdoors in a rainstorm he developed a violent cold which became worse and he slipped into a coma and passed away at six o'clock in the evening April 19, 1824 in Greece.
Check the following websites if you would like to read more about Lord Byron and his romantic poetry.
1. English History – Byron
2. Schoolnet – Byron
Below are some of the most popular and influencing romantic poems by Lord Byron.
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.
For the sword outwears the sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.
And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.
Oh lady! blessd be that tear---
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.
Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.
Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
Return to Love Poems From Poetry by Lord Byron
