THOU strainest through the mountain fern, A most exiguously thin Burn. For all thy foam, for all thy din, Thee shall the pallid lake inurn, With well-a-day for Mr. Swin- Burne! Take then this quarto in thy fin And, O thou stoker huge and stern, The whole affair, outside and in, Burn! But save the true poetic kin, The works of Mr. Robert Burn' And William Wordsworth upon Tin- Tern! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE LOVER SHOWETH HOW HE IS FORSAKEN by THOMAS WYATT THE GYPSIES [OR, GIPSIES] by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD LINES WRITTEN AT GENEVA by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES GOOD-BYE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ROSETTE by HEINRICH CHRISTIAN BOIE |