WHY, dear Cousin, why Ask for verses, when a poet's fount of song is dry? Or, if aught be there, Harsh and chill, it ill may touch the hand of lady fair. Who can perfumed waters bring From a convent spring "Monks in the olden time, "They were rhymesters?" -- they were rhymesters, but in Latin rhyme Monks in the days of old Lived in secret, in the Church's kindly-sheltering fold No bland meditators they Of a courtly lay. "They had visions bright?" -- they had visions, yet not sent in slumbers soft and light. No! a lesson stern First by vigils, fast, and penance theirs it was to learn. This their soul-ennobling gain, Joys wrought out by pain. "When from home they stirr'd, "Sweet their voices?" -- still, a blessing closed their merriest word; And their gayest smile Told of musings solitary, and the hallow'd aisle. "Songsters?" -- hark! they answer! round Plaintive chantings sound! Grey his cowled vest, Whose strong heart has pledged his service to the cloister blest. Duly garb'd is he, As the frost-work gems the branches of yon stately tree. 'Tis a danger-thwarting spell, And it fits me well! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS THE DANCE OF THE SEVIN DEIDLY SYNNIS by WILLIAM DUNBAR LITANY by ROBERT GRANT (1785-1838) RECESS by MILDRED TELFORD BARNWELL IN MEMORIAM W.M. & E.B.J. by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ADMIRAL EVANS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |