DEAR Poet of the swift imperial ways, The overtones of thy melodious showers Are mine, and shadows of thy leaning flowers; My thoughts are emulous of thy thought sprays. Thou art the shepherd of my humble days. The faint subsiding impulse of thy powers Reverberates and stirs my silent hours; My partial words are thy remembered lays. When Jesus gave the loaves to the meek throng, They fared, and there were basketsful besides -- The fragments fallen from his grace benign, Abundant -- since, dear Poet, love divides, A portion of thy opulence is mine, I gather from thy plenitude of song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEPPO: A VENETIAN STORY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE MAD GARDENER'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON TO MY DEAR FRIEND, MR. CONGREVE, ON HIS COMEDY, 'THE DOUBLE-DEALER' by JOHN DRYDEN PROSOPOPOIA, OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE by EDMUND SPENSER TO THE VERS LIBRIST WHO USES ONLY THE MINOR KEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A PRAYER by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE ARID LANDS by HERBERT BASHFORD THE WARTONS AND OTHER EARLY ROMANTIC LANDSCAPE-POETS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |