If, in the month of dark December,
Leander, who was nightly wont
(What maid will not the tale remember?)
To cross thy stream, broad Hellespont!

If, when the wintry tempest roared,
He sped to Hero, nothing loath,
And thus of old thy current poured,
Fair Venus! how I pity both!

For me, degenerate modern wretch,
Though in the genial month of May,
My dripping limbs I faintly stretch,
And think I've done a feat today.

But since he crossed the rapid tide,
According to the doubtful story,
To woo—and—Lord knows what beside,
And swam for Love, as I for Glory;

'Twere hard to say who fared the best:
Sad mortals! thus the gods still plague you!
He lost his labour, I my jest;
For he was drowned, and I've the ague.

Added: on April 20th, 2005 at 10:52 AM | Viewed: 2316 times | Comments (2)

Poet: Lord Byron
Poem: Written After Swimming From Sestos To Abydos

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Written After Swimming From Sestos To Abydos, has received 2 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Lord Byron with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!