A Brooke whose streame so great, so good, Was lov'd, was honour'd as a flood: Whose Bankes the Muses dwelt upon, More then their owne Helicon; Here at length, hath gladly found A quiet passage under ground; Meane while his loved bankes now dry, The Muses with their teares supply. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS WINDING-SHEET by ROBERT HERRICK THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST by RUDYARD KIPLING SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: CARL HAMBLIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE IRISH PEASANT TO HIS MISTRESS by THOMAS MOORE THE POET'S SOLILOQUY by E. M. AVERILL THE BALLAD OF MY FRIEND by J. D. BEAZLEY IN REFERENCE TO HER CHILDREN, 23 JUNE, 1659 by ANNE BRADSTREET |