BUT what if One, through grove or flowery mead, Indulging thus at will the creeping feet Of a voluptuous indolence, should meet Thy hovering Shade, O venerable Bede! The saint, the scholar, from a circle freed Of toil stupendous, in a hallowed seat Of learning, where thou heard'st the billows beat On a wild coast, rough monitors to feed Perpetual industry. Sublime Recluse! The recreant soul, that dares to shun the debt Imposed on human kind, must first forget Thy diligence, thy unrelaxing use Of a long life; and, in the hour of death, The last dear service of thy passing breath! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SWEENEY AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT MY NOVEMBER GUEST by ROBERT FROST CRITICS AND CONNOISSEURS by MARIANNE MOORE A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI PROMISES LIKE A PIE-CRUST by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |