I broke the spell that held me long, The dear, dear witchery of song. I said, the poet's idle lore Shall waste my prime of years no more, For Poetry, though heavenly born, Consorts with poverty and scorn. I broke the spell-nor deemed its power Could fetter me another hour. Ah, thoughtless! how could I forget Its causes were around me yet? For wheresoe'er I looked, the while, Was Nature's everlasting smile. Still came and lingered on my sight Of flowers and streams the bloom and light, And glory of the stars and sun;- And these and poetry are one. They, ere the world had held me long, Recalled me to the love of song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN: 32. THE NATIVITY OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST by CHRISTOPHER SMART IN APRIL by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY LILIES: 10. SOUL-PAIN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE WALNUT-TREE OF BOARSTELL: CANTO 3 by WILLIAM BASSE REBECCA; WHO SLAMMED DOORS FOR FUN AND PERISHED MISERABLY by HILAIRE BELLOC THE WORLD'S RECORD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |