Max Gutmann

Byron Grows Unwelcome  
    From Don Juan Finish’d

Lord Byron didn't live at all in Britain
  While working on his preface to my poem.
He 'd never been the sort to simply sit in
  One place with such a lively world to roam,
And though his verse had been a major hit in
  His beautiful if prudish island home,
His staying was made problematic by a
Small matter: he by then was a pariah.

His politics may not have help'd his standing.
  Some Britons found him radical and wild.
His maiden speech in Parliament, demanding
  Its sympathy for Luddites who defil'd
The looms that took their jobs was fiery, branding
  As butchers their condemners. (This was mild
Compar'd to the invective even greater
He wrote in verse and publish'd four days later.)

Such sentiments, though popular with some,
  Did not endear Lord B to the beau monde.
It led to steely acrimony from
  His social circle, which was not too fond
Of being told they were behaving, um,
  Like butchers (who were déclassé). Beyond
His rabble-rousing politics, society
Grew troubl'd by some further notoriety.

He 'd often been pursu'd by whiffs of scandal,
  A star ‘mad, bad, and dangerous to know’,
Flamboyant, bellicose, and known to handle
  A multitude of lovely lovers. Oh,
It ’s certain no one 'd ever call'd the man dull.
  That sort of fame would not have made him go
Away forever, but things started heading
In a malign direction at his wedding

To Annabella Milbanke. Though Lord Byron
  Had broad abilities, he lack'd a talent
For husbandhood, found matrimony tirin',
  And struggl'd at maintaining his morale in 't.
Although he manag'd early on to sire one
  Fine daughter, he was prone to be a gallant
And not a father. He was quick to praise her
In verse, but didn't do a lot to raise her.

His marriage didn't slow Lord B's romances,
  Nor did he act, when home, with great humanity.
He 'd storm and bellow at all circumstances
  Till Lady B grew worry’d for his sanity.
He mock'd her brains because she wore no pants, says
  His work — in a rare instance of inanity —;
He felt a woman's learning ineffectual,
And soon would savage ‘ladies intellectual’.

The Rumours shouted Byron's matrimony
  Was the result of simple, callous greed
For Lady B's inheritance, a phony
  Pretence of love that avarice decreed.
And, making public sentiment more stony,
  The further possibility, indeed,
That Byron 'd wed to cover up a lust o'
Forbidden sort for his half-sis Augusta.

Max Gutmann has contributed to dozens of publications including New Statesman, Able Muse, and Cricket. His plays have appeared throughout the U.S. and have been well-reviewed (see maxgutmann.com). His book There Was a Young Girl from Verona sold several copies.