WHY, let the stingless critic chide With all that fume of vacant pride Which mantles o'er the pedant fool, Like vapour on a stagnant pool! Oh! if the song, to feeling true, Can please the elect, the sacred few, Whose souls, by Taste and Nature taught, Thrill with the genuine pulse of thought -- If some fond feeling maid like thee, The warm-eyed child of Sympathy, Shall say, while o'er my simple theme She languishes in Passion's dream, "He was, indeed, a tender soul -- No critic law, no chill control, Should ever freeze, by timid art, The flowings of so fond a heart!" Yes, soul of Nature! soul of Love! That, hovering like a snow-wing'd dove, Breathed o'er my cradle warblings wild, And hail'd me Passion's warmest child! Grant me the tear from Beauty's eye, From Feeling's breast the votive sigh; Oh! let my song, my memory, find A shrine within the tender mind; And I will scorn the critic's chide, And I will scorn the fume of pride, Which mantles o'er the pedant fool, Like vapour on a stagnant pool! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE by GEORGE DARLEY SNAKE by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE by LAVINIA STONE STODDARD FOR A CHILD: 1. WALKING SONG by CHARLES WILLIAMS MOVE UPWARD by ALEXANDER ANDERSON PROLOGUE TO DRAMA ..... ANNIVERSARY OF CARRS' MARRIAGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |