O POESY! how often hast thou sooth'd The latent throbbings of a broken heart! How often hath thy heaven-bequeathed art The rugged pathway of my wanderings smooth'd! If, unawares, the bashful crimson steal, In public, o'er my colour-changing cheek, In solitude I consolation feel, And find, with thee, joys many dare not seek! Still may the numbers, rolling on supine, Dispel my mental, melancholy gloom! Thine is the art -- the powerful charm is thine, On desert hills to make an Eden bloom; -- To raise the soul o'er every human woe, And all the vain contempt a scoffing world can show. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNWANTED MEMORY by CLARENCE MAJOR AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY AT HOME IN HEAVEN by JAMES MONTGOMERY SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS by WALT WHITMAN LINES WRITTEN IN LADY'S ALBUM OF DIFFERENT-COLOURED PAPER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |