IF thou hast squander'd years to grave a gem Commission'd by thine absent Lord; and while 'Tis incomplete, Others would bribe thy needy skill to them -- Dismiss them to the street! Shouldst thou at last discover Beauty's grove, At last be panting on the fragrant verge, But in the track, Drunk with divine possession, thou meet Love -- Turn, at her bidding, back. When round thy ship in tempest Hell appears, And every spectre mutters up more dire To snatch control And loose to madness thy deep-kennell'd Fears -- Then to the helm, O Soul! Last; if upon the cold green-mantling sea Thou cling, alone with Truth, to the last spar -- Both castaway And one must perish -- let it not be he Whom thou art sworn to obey! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THOSE VARIOUS SCALPELS by MARIANNE MOORE THE SUPPLIANTS: PRAYER FOR DELIVERANCE. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE GIRL'S LAMENTATION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM CANTIC. CHAP. 2 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT SHADOWS OF CRIME by LEVI BISHOP ON JOHN DOVE [JOHNNY DOW], INNKEEPER OF MAUCHLINE by ROBERT BURNS |