A Fragment: When, To Their Airy Hall Poem by George Gordon Byron

A Fragment: When, To Their Airy Hall

Rating: 3.1


When, to their airy hall, my father's voice
Shall call my spirit, joyful in their choice;
When, poised upon the gale, my form shall ride,
Or, dark in mist, descend the mountains side;
Oh! may my shade behold no sculptured urns,
To mark the spot where earth to earth returns!
No lengthen'd scroll, no praise-encumber'd stone;
My epitaph shall be my name alone:
If that with honour fail to crown my clay,
Oh! may no other fame my deeds repay!
That, only that, shall single out the spot;
By that remember'd, or with that forgot.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Mapp 29 March 2013

Personally one of my favorites! ! It it maintains a low but, well rounded bit of imagery, yet innate hope and vision by the late Lord Byron

4 1 Reply
Sylva Portoian 04 June 2012

Please remove all the grades given by illiterates... Who don't know who Byron was Still after death Can we assess him by grades... Oh men...Can't escape from men's hand Even after covering his body with sand...!

10 3 Reply
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George Gordon Byron

George Gordon Byron

London, England
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