Not in these songs of thee do I caress My lyre, and utter amorous melodies,— Singing love-songs beneath blue facile skies Unstricken of storm, unversed in passion's stress. Nay, rather would I thunder through my lyre And mix my song with the tumultuous storm, If so I might the sons of men inspire And with my soul their listening souls inform! For thou art great: no queen of amorous ditty, But sweet, divine, a woman full of pity That crowneth woman, and of woman's might:— Queen of the proud untouched impassioned soul: Therefore for thee shall songs in thunders roll And peals reverberant the far ether smite! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN-HILL ON A BICYCLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER LEISURE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES EPITAPH ON S.P., A CHILD OF QUEEN ELIZABETH'S CHAPEL by BEN JONSON EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS A MASQUE OF DEAD QUEENS by STANLEY E. BABB THE GLORIOUS GIFT OF GOD by BENJAMIN BEDDOME |