Not proud of station, nor in worldly pelf Immoderately rich, nor rudely gay: Gentle he was and generous in a way, And with a wise direction ruled himself. Blest Nature spread his table every day, And so he lived, to all the blasts that woo Responsible, as yon long locust spray That waves and washes in the windy blue. Nor wanted he a power to reach and reap From hardest things a consequence and use, And yet this friend of mine, in one small hour Fell from himself, and was content to weep For eyes love-dark, red lips, and cheeks in hues Not red, but rose-dim like the jacinth flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THESMOPHORIAZUSAE: WOMEN'S CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES THE BIRTHNIGHT: TO F by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE GIRL TO SOLDIER ON LEAVE by ISAAC ROSENBERG LAODAMIA by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH OSTRA by ELLEN FRANCES BALDWIN |