To you, that know the tuch of true Conceat; (Whose many gifts I neede not to repeat) I write these Lines; fruits of unriper yeares; Wherein my Muse no harder censure feares; Hoping in gentle Worth, you will them take; Not for the gift, but for the givers sake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY (FROM A WESTERNER'S POINT OF VIEW) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR FOR LOVE'S SAKE, KISS ME ONCE AGAIN! by BEN JONSON THE REVENGE OF RAIN-IN-THE-FACE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A PETITION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE IRISH MOTHER'S LAMENT by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER BURY HIM DEEP by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES LINES; TO ONE WHO WISHED TO READ A POEM I HAD WRITTEN by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA |