When first I find those Numbers thou do'st write; To be most soft, terce, sweet, and perpolite: Next, when I see Thee towring in the skie, In an expansion no less large, then high; Then, in that compass, sayling here and there, And with Circumgyration every where; Following with love and active heate thy game, And then at last to truss the Epigram; I must confess, distinction none I see Between Domitians Martiall then, and Thee. But this I know, should Jupiter agen Descend from heaven, to re-converse with men; The Romane Language full, and superfine, If Jove wo'd speake, he wo'd accept of thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO LIVES: CONCLUSION. INDIAN SUMMER by WILLIAM ELLERY LEONARD THE LITTLE TURTLE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY TO A SNOWFLAKE by FRANCIS THOMPSON A FRESHET by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM TRENCH RAID NEAR HOOGE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 10 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |