Be not too proud, imperious Dame, Your charms are transitory things, May melt, while you at Heaven aim, Like Icarus's Waxen Wings; And you a part in his misfortune bear, Drown'd in a briny Ocean of despair. Your think your beauties are above, The Poets Brain, and Painters Hand, As if upon the Throne of Love You only should the World command: Yet know, though you presume your title true, There are pretenders, that will Rival you. There's an experienc'd Rebel, Time, And in his Squadrons Poverty; There's Age that brings along with him A terrible Artillery: And if against all these thou keep'st thy Crown, Th' Usurper Death will make thee lay it down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GETTYSBURG [JULY 1-3, 1863] by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE THE PROMETHEUS VINCTUS OF AESCHYLUS by AESCHYLUS THE FROGS: AN 'AESCHYLEAN' CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES MONCH AND JUNGFRAU by ANTON ALEXANDER VON AUERSPERG THE STREET LAMP by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A LARGE EVENING AT THE CLUB (AS IT WAS ONCE) by BERTON BRALEY |