Tho' no bold flights to thee belong; And tho' thy lays with conscious fear, Shrink from Judgment's eye severe, Yet much I thank thee, Spirit of my song! For, lovely Muse! thy sweet employ Exalts my soul, refines my breast, Gives each pure pleasure keener zest, And softens sorrow into pensive Joy. From thee I learn'd the wish to bless, From thee to commune with my heart; From thee dear Muse! the gayer part, To laugh with Pity at the crowds that press Where Fashion flaunts her robes by Folly spun, Whose hues gay-varying wanton in the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIDE-BY-NIGHTS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE FIVE SOULS by WILLIAM NORMAN EWER SONNET ON FAME (2) by JOHN KEATS WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH by WALT WHITMAN WHERE LIES THE LAND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A WINTER TWILIGHT by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE |