"I Would I Were A Careless Child" Explication

I Would I Were a Careless Child by Lord Byron
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.
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar;
I ask but this -- again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.

Few are my years, and yet I feel
The world was ne'er designed for me:
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth! -- wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?

I loved -- but those I loved are gone;
Had friends -- my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart -- the heart -- is lonely still.

How dull! to hear the voice of those
Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist'rous joy is but a name.

And woman, lovely woman! thou,
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh I would resign
This busy scene of splendid woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which virtue knows, or seems to know.

Fain would I fly the haunts of men--
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of heaven,
To flee away and be at rest.

This poem is one of the many brilliant works of Lord Byron, one of the great poets of England’s history. Published in 1807, when he was only nineteen years old, it speaks deeply to inner conflict and great emotion. Although not one of his best-known works, it is still a well-loved piece of classical poetry. The poem is told from the point of view of a young man, one who has wandered far from the place of his birth, and who is now looking back on his home. The audience is not made clear, although the poem is definitely written for those who have lost or are missing something, someone, or someplace.

The poem opens with the speaker speaking of his longing to be like a child again and to be home once more. It then flies into a vivid depiction of the place he has come from. The descriptive language that Byron uses here is phenomenal. Although not specific in descriptive details, what he does provide awakens deep imaginative images. This is a mark of a true master of language manipulation; with just a few words, Byron spins an entire world for his readers. He simply describes the sea as a “deep blue wave,” but that brings forth a beautiful picture in the mind.

The poem goes on as the writer says that he wants nothing more to do with fortune, saying he despises the position he has and the servitude of others towards him. He says that he feels that even though he is young, he already has no place in the world, and rebukes Truth for showing him the pain and distress that is reality. He describes bitterly how he has lost both his lovers and his friends, and now what company he does have does nothing to help him. He mocks the prowess of the rich and powerful he is acquainted with, saying that ultimately what they have will do no good, and longs for a few faithful friends. Again, his descriptive language is vivid without too much detail, describing and capturing the despair and want he is feeling. Most touching of all, the speaker mourns the loss of his true love, a woman whom his words identify as a fair lady. He says how he would willingly surrender all that he has just to have the peace and contentment he had with her.

The speaker closes by saying that he would fly away if he could, but that he does not hate mankind, only seeks solace from its evil. He reflects on his need to be back home, the longing he feels in his heart for the place of his youth. His final lines express his desire to “be at rest” away from the world, forever.

The subject of this poem could easily be interpreted as “there’s no place like home” or "the young years are the best". But it is also about how the joys of life are so often fleeting, and we should always cherish that which can never be taken away, which is our memories of home. And it is also focused on the regret that can be felt when one gives up their childish innocence too soon, and of the longing to have it back. The theme, therefore, is the pain of losing innocence.

This poem, with its A-B-A-B-C-D-C-D rhyme scheme, has a somber and yet somewhat song-like feel to it. Its tone is one of contemplation and reminiscence, not total sorrow but definitely somewhat-remorseful. The word choices, while not overly-archaic, can sometimes seem somewhat strange since most of them are no longer used widely today. Still, they fit the subject and tone of the poem quite well.

This poem speaks to me on a rather personal level. My innocence was lost from a very young age, and I found myself thrust into a world that didn't seem to care about me. Many times in life have I felt like the speaker in this poem; desparate to return to childhood and to escape the reality of the world. Nothing else mattered to me. There are still times when I feel that way. And like the speaker, I have a choice; whether to remain bitter about what has been lost, or to look ahead towards the future.