Zealously my Muse doth salute all thee, Enquiring of that mistique trinitee Whereof thou,'and all to whom heavens do infuse Like fyer, are made; thy body, mind, and Muse. Dost thou recover sicknes, or prevent? Or is thy Mind travail'd with discontent? Or art thou parted from the world and mee, In a good skorn of the worlds vanitee? Or is thy devout Muse retyr'd to sing Vpon her tender Elegiaque string? Our Minds part not, joyne then thy Muse with myne, For myne is barren thus devorc'd from thyne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOING FOR WATER by ROBERT FROST LESSER EPISTLES: TO A YOUNG LADY WITH SOME LAMPREYS by JOHN GAY A FAREWELL TO FOLLY: CONTENT by ROBERT GREENE THE YANKEE PRIVATEER by ARTHUR HALE THE RESPECTABLE BURGHER, ON 'THE HIGHER CRITICISM' by THOMAS HARDY AFTER THE WAR by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE MODERN LOVE: 34 by GEORGE MEREDITH |