Lines Occasioned By The Death Of Lord Byron, And By Some Circumstances Connected Therewith. Poem by Samuel Bamford

I saw the sun go down—
And in that dark'ning time,
From earth to sky uprose the cry
Of many a tongue and clime.
By Valtos, where Botzaris fell,
The mailed freeman stood and cried
Until his fount of tears was dried:
And Britain, too, could tell

How she had gloried in that day,
How mourned when it pass'd away!
And, as I looked again, behold
A fearful sight advance!
For up there came the cold, cold moon,
That dream'd not of a night so soon.
I mark'd her placid glance;
Serenely still she kept her sky,
Her head unbowed, her tearless eye
Betray'd a mien that might not move
At death, or agony, or love—
And curl'd around her crested horn,
I saw a snake of fire,
Which utter'd words of bitter scorn;
Interminable ire
Dwelt on the tongue of that strange thing,
That round and round the moon did cling!
Of broken vows, of pride that bled,
The scorching reptile ever spoke;
Anon, it toss'd its scaly head,
That flash'd as if the lightning broke!
When cruel words and passions woke
It nurs'd the flame, and kept it burning;
To love, to duty, no returning
Was ever known; —no sigh, no tear,
Hath stray'd from that unmelting sphere!

The present race of men shall die,
Before another sun
Arise so bright, or soar so high,
As, lost one, thou hast done!
The priest is laughing 'neath his robe,
The tyrant on his throne;
In hollow phrase they dole forth praise
Far better let alone.
The press, which 'should as air be free,'
Doth speak in guarded words of thee;
Whilst bigotry and power do stand
In dark conjunction o'er the land!