I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum’d,
And men were gather’d round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other’s face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain’d;
Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguish’d with a crash—and all was black….
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Lord George Gordon Byron worshipped by his fans, the Byromaniacs, was the superhero of his age. His poetic descriptions of the Grand Tour coincided with advances in publishing making his Romantic poetry available to thousands of his adoring readership.
His sexual liasons were legendary and unrestrained. His liberal politics took him to Greece and their struglle for liberation from Turkish rule. Don Juan is possibly his greatest poem, certainly his longest. Listen to the first Canto here read by Richard Johnson.
Please note that foreign names, including Don Juan, are deliberately mispronounced, mocking the English ineptitude with foreign tongues.
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