Here, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives, In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined, Accept the gift; though humble he who gives, Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. So may no ruffian-feeling in my breast, Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among; But Peace attune thy gentle soul to rest, Or Love, ecstatic, wake his seraph song, Or Pity's notes, in luxury of tears, As modest Want the tale of woe reveals; While conscious Virtue all the strains endears, And heaven-born Piety her sanction seals. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUNG BULLFROGS by CARL SANDBURG ON THE TOMBS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by FRANCIS BEAUMONT OLD LEM by STERLING ALLEN BROWN THE VICAR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED ISAAC AND ARCHIBALD by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LOVE LIES BLEEDING by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HIGH TIDE AT GETTYSBURG [JULY 3, 1863] by WILL HENRY THOMPSON |