Explore "I Would I were a Careless Child" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I would I were a careless child, / Still dwelling in my Highland cave, / Or roaming through the dusky wild, / Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave; / The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride / Accords not with the freeborn soul, / Which loves the mountain's craggy side, / And seeks the rocks where billows roll.
Fortune! Take back these cultured lands, / Take back this name of splendid sound! / I hate the touch of servile hands, / I hate the slaves that cringe around.