That darling of the Tragic Muse, When Wrangham sung her praise, Thalia lost her rosy hues, And sicken'd at her lays: But transient was th' unwonted sigh; For soon the Goddess spied A sister-form of mirthful eye, And danc'd for joy and cried: 'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame, The fates have given to you! Still bid your Poet boast her name; @3I@1 have @3my@1 Brunton too.' Eyes that have ach'd with Sorrow! ye shall weep Tears of doubt-mingled Joy, like theirs who start From Precipices of distemper'd Sleep, On which the fierce-eyed Fiends their Revels keep, And see the rising Sun, and feel it dart New Rays of Pleasance trembling to the Heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WILD FLOWER'S SONG by WILLIAM BLAKE TO AN UNBORN PAUPER CHILD by THOMAS HARDY AN ODE UPON A QUESTION WHETHER LOVE SHOULD CONTINUE FOREVER by EDWARD HERBERT THE ROSY BOSOM'D HOURS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE MY PRAYER FOR TODAY by MAUD AKERS THE YELLOW BADGE by RUTH SCHECHTER ALEXANDER LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 9. GOING TO THE FAIR by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |