FAIR sister of the Muses, 't is the hour, Dearest of all, when thou dost wed thy Art. No bride more radiant a more single heart Gave to her chosen -- and what noble dower! Graces akin to forest and to flower; A spirit blithe as dawn; a soul astart; A nature rich, to keep thee what thou art -- A star of beauty and a flame of power. Now, while the tranced throng turn each to each Sharing their joy, think'st thou on those young years When many a day and night was unbeguiled Save by this love that lightened toil and tears? Thy music melts upon the verge of speech; Fame greets the artist -- I, the constant child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUMMER'S NIGHT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS SONNET: 16. TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL, MAY 1652 by JOHN MILTON GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! by WALT WHITMAN THE LAST INVOCATION by WALT WHITMAN THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. THE GASTRIC MUSE by JOHN ARMSTRONG |