On This Day I Complete My 36th Year
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'Tis time this heart should be unmoved Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet though I cannot be beloved Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of Love are gone; The worm—the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some Volcanic Isle; No torch is kindled at its blaze A funeral pilе The hope, the fеar, the jealous care The exalted portion of the pain And power of Love I cannot share But wear the chain But 'tis not thus—and 'tis not here Such thoughts should shake my Soul, nor now Where Glory decks the hero's bier Or binds his brow The Sword, the Banner, and the Field Glory and Greece around us see! The Spartan borne upon his shield Was not more free Awake (not Greece—she is awake!) Awake, my Spirit! Think through whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake And then strike home! Tread those reviving passions down Unworthy Manhood—unto thee Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be If thou regret'st thy Youth, why live? The land of honourable Death Is here:—up to the Field, and give Away thy breath! Seek out—less often sought than found— A Soldier's Grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy Ground And take thy rest
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Credits
- Writers
- Lord Byron