Prune thou thy words; the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng; -- They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong. But he who lets his feelings run In soft luxurious flow, Shrinks when hard service must be done, And faints at every woe. Faith's meanest deed more favor bears, Where hearts and sins are weighed, Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, Which bloom their hour, and fade. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: A LAME BEGGAR by JOHN DONNE SONNET: 19. ON HIS BLINDNESS by JOHN MILTON THE HAPPY NIGHTINGALE by PHILIP AYRES MEMORY'S VISIT by DEAN ALETTA BAILLIE IN ANSWER TO QUESTION FROM GREEK GRAMMAR: WHAT FUTURES SPEAK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD BEATRICE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |