FAIR lake, thy lovely and thy haunted shore Hath only echoes for the poet's lute; None may tread there but with unsandalled foot, Submissive to the great who went before, Filled with the mighty memories of yore. And yet how mournful are the records there: Captivity and exile and despair Did they endure who now endure no more, -- The patriot, the woman, and the bard, Whose names thy winds and waters bear along; What did the world bestow for their reward But suffering, sorrow, bitterness, and wrong? Genius! a hard and weary lot is thine, -- The heart thy fuel, and the grave thy shrine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE THE JOYS OF THE ROAD by BLISS CARMAN THE BIRD OF PARADISE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SONNET: 21. TO CYRIACK SKINNER by JOHN MILTON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 71. THE CHOICE (1) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE by SARAH FLOWER ADAMS |