Byron (6th Baron Byron, George Gordon,1788-1824) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

How many students d'you know who keep
In their rooms, a real live bear?
Who drink their wine from a human skull
Buy a hundred s of hankies for spare?

How many writers have you met
Who receive pubic hair through the post?
Who sleep with their sisters (and choir boys too)
Well hung, no idle boast!

His great uncle William (the wicked lord)
Killed his cousin in cruel attack
His grandfather was an admiral
The tars called ‘Foulweather Jack'

His father was Mad Jack Byron
Wed his mother for her dowree
She'd the temper of ten wild goats, folk said
With a Royal pedigree

If you travel to Greece, he's still revered
As a hero there, though dead
As famous for poems and bravery
As the notches on his bed