Who shall doubt, Donne, where I a poet be, When I dare send my epigrams to thee? That so alone canst judge, so alone dost make: And, in thy censures, evenly, dost take As free simplicity, to disavow, As thou hast best authority, to allow. Read all I send: and, if I find but one Marked by thy hand, and with the better stone, My title's sealed. Those that for claps do write, Let puisnees', porters', players' praise delight, And, till they burst, their backs, like asses' load: A man should seek great glory, and not broad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PRAYER IN SPRING by ROBERT FROST THE NEED FOR MEN by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND LONGFELLOW by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY MINIVER CHEEVY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SONNET: 61 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE DESERT NIGHT by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS THE FADED VIOLET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |