'TIS known I scorn to flatter, or commend, What merits not applause, though in my friend; Which by my censure should now more appear, Were this not full as good as thou art dear: But since thou couldst not (erring) make it so, That I might by impartial humour show By finding fault; nor one of these friends tell How to show love so ill, that I as well Might paint out mine: I feel an envious touch, And tell thee, swain, that at thy fame I grutch, Wishing the art that makes this poem shine, And this thy work (wert not thou wronged) mine. For when detraction shall forgotten be, This will continue to eternize thee; And if hereafter any busy wit Should, wronging thy conceit, miscensure it, Though seeming learn'd or wise: here he shall see, 'Tis prais'd by wiser and more learn'd than he. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TETHYS' FESTIVAL: SHADOWS by SAMUEL DANIEL DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD TO THE VERS LIBRIST WHO USES ONLY THE MINOR KEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A SOLDIER'S GRAVE by JOHN ALBEE A SHADOW OF THE NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SUNRISE TRUMPETS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER |