OH, sing once more, nor think your subtle spells Are vainly woven for a nature cold, Although I kneel not at the shrine of gold Wherein the spirit of your worship dwells: For when your voice in tones impassioned swells, The hosts of Dreamland are by you controlled, And secrets higher than my words unfold Even to me the perfect music tells. And your devotion is akin to mine, Though I give praise in colour, you in song; The self-same goddess, in another shrine, Counts me among the servitors who throng Her outer courts: to Poesy divine Our noblest work, our deepest thoughts, belong. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GIRLS! PASS ALONG! by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 62. FAREWELL TO JULIET (14) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TOBY TOSSPOT by GEORGE COLMAN THE YOUNGER RHAPSODY OF THE DEAF MAN by EDOUARD JOACHIM CORBIERE ON HER ENDEAVOURING TO CONCEAL HER GRIEF AT PARTING by WILLIAM COWPER |