BOCCACCIO, for you laughed all laughs that are -- The Cynic scoff, the chuckle of the churl, The laugh that ripples over reefs of pearl, The broad, the sly, the hugely jocular; Men call you lewd, and coarse, allege you mar The music that, withdrawn your ribald skirl, Were sweet as note of mavis or of merle -- Wherefore they frown, and rate you at the bar. One thing is proved: To count the sad degrees Upon the Plague's dim dial, catch the tone Of a great death that lies upon a land, Feel nature's ties, yet hold with steadfast hand The diamond, you are three that stand alone -- You, and Lucretius, and Thucydides. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LILY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE BLIND BOY by COLLEY CIBBER VOICES OF THE NIGHT: PRELUDE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE QUAKER GRAVEYARD by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL A LEAVE-TAKING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE WELCOME, LITTLE STRANGER (BY A DISPLACED THREE-YEAR-OLD) by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS ADVENTURE ON THE WINGS OF MORNING by RACHEL ALBRIGHT |