This while we are abroad, Shall we not touch our Lyre? Shall we not sing an ODE? Shall that holy Fire, In us that strongly glow'd, In this cold Ayre expire? Long since the Summer layd Her lustie Brav'rie downe, The Autumne halfe is way'd, And BOREAS 'gins to frowne, Since now I did behold Great BRUTES first builded Towne. Though in the utmost @3Peake@1, A while we doe remaine, Amongst the Mountaines bleake Expos'd to Sleet and Raine, No Sport our Houres shall breake, To exercise our Vaine. What though bright PHOEBUS Beames Refresh the Southerne Ground, And though the Princely @3Thames@1 With beautious Nymphs abound, And by old @3Camber's@1 Streames Be many Wonders found; Yet many Rivers cleare Here glide in Silver Swathes, And what of all most deare, @3Buckston's@1 delicious Bathes, Strong Ale and Noble Cheare, T'asswage breeme Winters scathes. Those grim and horrid Caves, Whose Lookes affright the day, Wherein nice Nature saves, What she would not bewray, Our better leasure craves, And doth invite our Lay. In places farre or neere, Or famous, or obscure, Where wholesome is the Ayre, Or where the most impure, All times, and every-where, The Muse is still in ure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE WORLD-SOUL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO A WILD DUCK by BERNICE GIBBS ANDERSON THE DEAD LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT SONNET FROM JAPAN: 1. THE SPELL by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 29. CHRIST AND ENGLAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |