Blest payre of Swans, Oh may you interbring Daily new joyes, and never sing, Live, till all grounds of wishes faile, Till honor, yea till wisedome grow so stale, That, new great heights to trie, It must serve your ambition, to die; Raise heires, and may here, to the worlds end, live Heires from this King, to take thankes, you, to give, Nature and grace doe all, and nothing Art. May never age, or error overthwart With any West, these radiant eyes, with any North, this heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN'S GENITALS by HAYDEN CARRUTH BONDAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 30 by CLARENCE MAJOR THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 4 by MARK AKENSIDE |