Explore "Written after Swimming from Sestos to Abydos" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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 roar'd, / He sped to Hero, nothing loth, / And thus of old thy current pour'd, / 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 cross'd 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 drown'd, and I've the ague.