FRIEND, wouldst thou put thy poets to the proof, Read them where rolls the moorland, or the main! Not light will be their ordeal, thus to stand Pitted against the huge things of the earth, And tested hard, by the all-searching sky. Then, if indeed they bear their trial unshamed, Grudge not the glory, the often bitter glory, The coveted uncovetable crown, Which they with toil and battle and wounds did earn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS (A CAT'S TALE, WITH ADDITIONS) by ELIZA LEE CABOT FOLLEN RAIN ON A GRAVE by THOMAS HARDY MACDONALD'S RAID - A.D. 1780 by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE WHY THUS LONGING by HARRIET WINSLOW SEWALL |