WILD wing my notes, fierce passions urge the strain; Strong flame the fires that kindle in my soul; I strike the wiery harp, nor will refrain; Mad is despair, and scorns each feeble rein, Feelings like mine no virtue can control. Stifled, thenflated heart with pain respires, My crimson veins with struggling blood are pressed, My cheeks are flushed with passion's transient fires; My brain with agonies distracted flies, Till the fierce streams burst from my burning eyes, And drowning torrents cool my panting breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK AT ... THEATRE ROYALE, 1747 by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) THE BELLE OF THE BALL by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 105 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 20 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: OCTOBER by EDMUND SPENSER |