Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO THYRZA (1), by GEORGE GORDON BYRON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: One struggle more and I am free Last Line: To that which cannot quit the dead? Alternate Author Name(s): Byron, Lord; Byron, 6th Baron Subject(s): Love – Nature Of | ||||||||
ONE struggle more, and I am free From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee, Then back to busy life again. It suits me well to mingle now With things that never pleased before: Though every joy is fled below, What future grief can touch me more? Then bring me wine, the banquet bring; Man was not form'd to live alone: I'll be that light, unmeaning thing That smiles with all, and weeps with none. It was not thus in days more dear, It never would have been, but thou Hast fled, and left me lonely here; Thou 'rt nothing, -- all are nothing now. In vain my lyre would lightly breathe! The smile that sorrow fain would wear But mocks the woe that lurks beneath, Like roses o'er a sepulchre. Though gay companions o'er the bowl Dispel awhile the sense of ill; Though pleasure fires the maddening soul, The heart -- the heart is lonely still! On many a lone and lovely night It soothed to gaze upon the sky; For then I deem'd the heavenly light Shone sweetly on thy pensive eye: And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon, When sailing o'er the AEgean wave, 'Now Thyrza gazes on that moon --' Alas, it gleam'd upon her grave! When stretch'd on fever's sleepless bed, And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins, ''T is comfort still,' I faintly said, 'That Thyrza cannot know my pains:' Like freedom to the time-worn slave, A boon 't is idle then to give, Relenting Nature vainly gave My life, when Thyrza ceased to live! My Thyrza's pledge in better days, When love and life alike were new! How different now thou meet'st my gaze! How tinged by time with sorrow's hue! The heart that gave itself with thee Is silent -- ah, were mine as still! Though cold as e'en the dead can be, It feels, it sickens with the chill. Thou bitter pledge! thou mournful token! Though painful, welcome to my breast! Still, still, preserve that love unbroken, Or break the heart to which thou 'rt press'd! Time tempers love, but not removes, More hallow'd when its hope is fled: Oh! what are thousand living loves To that which cannot quit the dead? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRY GOING OUT OVER PASTURES by ROBERT BLY AND KNEELING AT THE EDGE OF THE TRANSPARENT SEA I SHALL SHAPE FOR ... by ANNE CARSON THE GLASS ESSAY by ANNE CARSON AMONG MY FRIENDS LOVE IS A GREAT SORROW by ROBERT DUNCAN CHOSEN BY THE LION by LINDA GREGG THE SMALL THING LOVE IS by LINDA GREGG ADVISING MYSELF by PHILIP LEVINE ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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