O PRINCELY poet! -- kingly heir Of gifts divinely sent, -- Your own! -- nor envy anywhere, Nor voice of discontent. Though, of ourselves, all poor are we, And frail and weak of wing, Your height is ours -- your ecstasy -- Your glory, when you sing. Most favored of the gods, and great In gifts beyond our store, We covet not your rich estate, But prize our own the more. -- The gods give as but gods may do -- We count @3our@1 riches thus, -- They gave their richest gifts to you, And then gave you to us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 8. DEPARTURE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 129 by ALFRED TENNYSON QUATORZAINS: 10. TO POESY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LAST NIGHT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE GREATER GIFT by MARGARET E. BRUNER SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 21 by THOMAS CAMPION PINDARIC ODE: TO THE UNVERSITY LIBRARY AT OXFORD by ABRAHAM COWLEY |