THOU hast redeem'd us, Will, and future times Shall not account unto the age's crimes Dearth of pure wit. Since the great lord of it, Donne, parted hence, no man has ever writ So near him, in's own way: I would commend Particulars; but then, how should I end Without a volume? Ev'ry line of thine Would ask (to praise it right) twenty of mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SUNFLOWER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ON THE RHINE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES THE GUARDIAN ANGEL (A PICTURE AT FANO) by ROBERT BROWNING SESTINA: 1. OF THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI by DANTE ALIGHIERI 23RD STREET RUNS INTO HEAVEN by KENNETH PATCHEN |