“Dull is the eye that will not weep to see- Thy walls defaced thy mouldering shines removed- by british hands, which it had best behoved- to guard those relics ne'er to be restored. Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved,- And once again thy hapless bossom gored- and snatch'd shrinking gods to northern climes abhorred.”
Lord Byron's poem reflects on the destruction and plundering of ancient artifacts by the British during their colonization of other countries. The speaker laments the loss of these relics and condemns the actions of those who took them. The use of strong language such as "Curst be the hour" and "shrinkng gods to northern climes abhorred" conveys the speaker's anger and frustration at the desecration of cultural treasures. Byron highlights the importance of preserving history and the consequences of imperialism on a nation's heritage.
As we reflect on Lord Byron's words lamenting the destruction of cultural relics by British hands, consider the following questions:
In this excerpt, Lord Byron laments the destruction of cultural artifacts by the British, highlighting the importance of preserving historical relics. This sentiment rings true in today's world, where the debate over repatriation of stolen artifacts and the protection of cultural heritage continues to be relevant. Byron's words serve as a reminder of the consequences of cultural imperialism and the ongoing efforts to right past wrongs.
“But first, on earth as vampire sent,Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent,Then ghastly haunt thy native place,And suck the blood of all thy race.There from thy daughter, sister, wife,At midnight drain the stream of life,Yet loathe the banquet which perforceMust feed thy livid living corse.Thy victims ere they yet expireShall know the demon for their sire,As cursing thee, thou cursing them,Thy flowers are withered on the stem.”
“The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has leftShall never part from mine,Till happier hours restore the giftUntainted back to thine. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,An equal love may see:The tear that from thine eyelid streamsCan weep no change in me. I ask no pledge to make me blestIn gazing when alone;Nor one memorial for a breast,Whose thoughts are all thine own. Nor need I write --- to tell the taleMy pen were doubly weak:Oh ! what can idle words avail,Unless the heart could speak ? By day or night, in weal or woe,That heart, no longer free,Must bear the love it cannot show,And silent ache for thee.”
“In secret we met -In silence I grieve,That thy heart could forget,Thy spirit deceive.If I should meet theeAfter long years,How should I greet thee? -With silence and tears”
“She walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes...”
“Woman! experience might have told me, That all must love thee who behold thee:Surely experience might have taughtThy firmest promises are nought:But, placed in all thy charms before me,All I forget, but to adore thee.”
“On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meetTo chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet.”