To sing a song shall please my countrymen; To unlock the treasures of the Island heart; With loving feet to trace each hill and glen, And find the ore that is not for the mart Of commerce: this is all I ask. No task, But joy, GOD wot! Wherewith "the stranger" intermeddles not -- Who, if perchance He lend his ear, As caught by mere romance Of nature, traversing On viewless wing All parallels of sect And race and dialect, Then shall he be to me most dear. Natheless, for mine own people do I sing, And use the old familiar speech: Happy if I shall reach Their inmost consciousness. One thing They will confess: I never did them wrong, And so accept the singer and the song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TROY PARK: 5. THE CAT by EDITH SITWELL A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING ON THE BRINK by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE LOW-BACKED CAR by SAMUEL LOVER IMAGINATION, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT |