Dear friend! I had commenced the 'soaring ode' - But oh! I felt, despite thy flattering talk, Like some poor sparrow, captured by a hawk, And borne on alien wings from his abode Beneath the sheltering eaves. It is an art Beyond my scope and pitch; I stare and pant In this Pindaric clutch, and feel my want Of force; henceforth I shall grow faint at heart To see a falcon tower. Let lyrics be; For, though I do not love to say thee nay, For my poor muse it is too late a day To mell with strophe and antistrophe! When odes are paramount, 'tis best for me To house and peep, lest I be swooped away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECHOES: 35. MARGARITAE SORORI by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 21. BREDON HILL by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH by WALT WHITMAN FIRST LOVE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. DIET by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE LIVING BOOK by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES |