poetry time.

A recent post in one of the groups gave me a hankering to read some Byron.  Here, have a poem:

I Would I Were a Careless Child
by George Gordon, Lord Byron

I would I were a careless child,
Still dwelling in my highland cave,
Or roaming through the dusky wild,
Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave;
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride
Accords not with the freeborn soul,
Which loves the mountain's craggy side,
And seeks the rocks where billows roll.

Fortune! take back these cultured lands,
Take back this name of splendid sound!
I hate the touch of servile hands,
I hate the slaves that cringe around.
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar;
I ask but this -- again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.

Few are my years, and yet I feel
The world was ne'er designed for me:
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth! -- wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?

I loved -- but those I loved are gone;
Had friends -- my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart -- the heart -- is lonely still.

How dull! to hear the voice of those
Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist'rous joy is but a name.

And woman, lovely woman! thou,
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh I would resign
This busy scene of splendid woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which virtue knows, or seems to know.

Fain would I fly the haunts of men--
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of heaven,
To flee away and be at rest.

 

I feel like that some days, don't you? Though I will say it's hardly Truth's fault that the world so often sucks.  No sense calling its beam hated; rather like shooting the messenger.  Better to deal with it than waste energy resenting it, I've found.

What are my Halloween plans, you ask...?

I shall have to work on Halloween. The good thing about that is that I shall be coming in costume, which should be rather amusing. /:-) I'm itching for a party, though. Haven't had or been to a good Halloween party in ages. *sighs* Makes me feel restless.

Doing some of the last bits of work on the Midnight Circus Game tonight. I should be making the first posts by Dia de los Muertos. I had been planning to have the group for the posts be on LJ, here, but I'm thinking I'll make a yahoo group for it instead--a bit less fuss, though the fuss was part of what I liked about making it be on LJ, being able to post pics and such... *mulls*

(no subject)

How cool is this?