O why should Nature niggardly restrain That foreign nations relish not our tongue? Else should my lines glide on the waves of Rhene And crown the Pyrens with my living song. But, bounded thus, to Scotland get you forth, Thence take you wing unto the Orcades; There let my verse get glory in the North, Making my sighs to thaw the frozen seas; And let the Bards within that Irish isle, To whom my Muse with fiery wing shall pass, Call back the stiff-neck'd rebels from exile, And mollify the slaught'ring Gallowglass; And when my flowing numbers they rehearse, Let wolves and bears be charmed with my verse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN WERE I BUT HIS OWN WIFE by ELLEN MARY PATRICK DOWNING ON GROWING OLD by JOHN MASEFIELD SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD DAFFODILS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH GOLDEN GLOW by ABUL HASAN OF SEVILLE |