KINSMAN beloved, and as a son, by me! When I behold this fruit of thy regard, The sculptured form of my old favourite bard, I reverence feel for him and love for thee. Joy too, and grief. Much joy that there should be Wise men and learned, who grudge not to reward With some applause my bold attempt and hard, Which others scorn; critics by courtesy. The grief is this, that sunk in Homer's mine, I lose my precious years, now soon to fail, Handling his gold, which howsoe'er it shine, Proves dross when balanced in the Christian scale. Be wiser thou!--like our forefather DONNE, Seek heavenly wealth, and work for God alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IAMBICUM TRIMETRUM, FR. LETTER TO HARVEY by EDMUND SPENSER ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THRENODY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LAPLAND by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE THREE MUSICIANS by AUBREY BEARDSLEY A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 10 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |