I. COME then, tell me, sage divine, Is it an offence to own That our bosoms e'er incline Toward immortal glory's throne? For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure, Bourbon's might, Braganza's treasure, So can fancy's dream rejoice, So conciliate reason's choice, As one approving word of her impartial voice. II. If to spurn at noble praise Be the passport to thy heaven, Follow thou those gloomy ways; No such law to me was given, Nor, I trust, shall I deplore me Faring like my friends before me; Nor a holier place desire Than Timoleon's arms acquire, And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE FOR THE AMERICAN DEAD IN ASIA by THOMAS MCGRATH SONG OF THE PILGRIMS [SEPTEMBER 16, 1620] by THOMAS COGSWELL UPHAM A STIRRUP-CUP by DOUGLAS AINSLIE AT PARTING by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS VERSES WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF TIGHE'S 'PSYCHE' by BERNARD BARTON |