O be thou keen to guess when Flattery's near! His face is not the shadow of his heart: The Court is all for lucre like the mart, And fraught with perils that a king should fear -- Trust not the flatterer's hollow sympathy: For should'st thou fathom that dishonest sound, The line would rise with noisome clays hung round And not the fruitful loam of love for thee: O ill-starred royalty! Love's balmy sighs Where Truth breathes on us from her sweetest shrine -- The access to all pure delights and ties -- Say are they less the peasant's lot than thine? Beyond the shepherd's bliss thou canst not rise; And many snares to steal ev'n that combine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LACK OF STEADFASTNESS; BALLAD by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE ADOPTED CHILD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE SEASONS: A HYMN by JAMES THOMSON (1700-1748) MICHAEL; A PASTORAL POEM by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH FAREWELL TO SUMMER by GEORGE ARNOLD WHY DON'T THE MEN PROPOSE? by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY NEW ENGLAND'S GROWTH by WILLIAM BRADFORD |