Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
George Gordon Byron, 1788 - 1824
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.

His steps are not upon thy paths,--thy fields
Are not a spoil for him,--thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For earth’s destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,
And send’st him, shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his gods, where haply lies
His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to earth: —there let him lay.

Did you ever read the play Cain by Lord Byron, overlooking the usual incest propaganda he was prone to placing in his work, the play itself stands as something esoterically between the book of Enoch and Dante's inferno.
If nothing else it is a beautiful linguistic construction, an occult exploration and and incite in to the mind of a great poet

IT WAS ME! That posted it. And I like it better without the missing lines. That's why. I also have an extremely exclusive "Poetry I Love" group if you want to join.

Could you tell me which work this from? Admittedly I'm not aware of Lord Byron but I'm certainly interested now. Is it poetry as above?
Thanks!