Touch but thy Lire (my Harrie) and I heare From thee some raptures of the rare Gotire. Then if thy voice commingle with the String I heare in thee rare Laniere to sing; Or curious Wilson: Tell me, canst thou be Less then Apollo, that ursurp'st such Three? Three, unto whom the whole world give applause; Yet their Three praises, praise but One; that's Lawes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 71 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON THE HOLY DUST by JULIEN AUGUSTE PELAGE BRIZEUX ON GLENRIDDEL'S FOX BREAKING HIS CHAIN by ROBERT BURNS STILL DAYS AND STORMY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |