WHAT made my heart, at Newstead, fullest swell?-- 'Twas not the thought of Byron, of his cry Stormily sweet, his Titan agony; It was the sight of that Lord Arundel Who struck, in heat, the child he loved so well, And the child's reason flickered, and did die. Painted (he will'd it) in the gallery They hang; the picture doth the story tell. Behold the stern, mail'd father, staff in hand! The little fair-hair'd son, with vacant gaze, Where no more lights of sense or knowledge are! Methinks the woe which made that father stand Baring his dumb remorse to future days, Was woe than Byron's woe more tragic far. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS! by WALT WHITMAN THE BIRDS: THE BIRDS' LIFE by ARISTOPHANES TO SIR THOS. BARLOW, P.R.C.P. by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES CLIFTON by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |