To laud thy muse, or thee to crown with praise, Is but to light my tapers to the rays Of gold-locked Phoebus: since the scheme Of fabled truth, thy waking seeming dream, Thy ever-living-loving fame in arts -- Of arts, to us in whole and part imparts. In arts, thy judgement, phrase, invention, Of arts, thy poet's vindication. In mourning elegies I admired thy skill, In mirthful lays we now admire thy quill. Let Albine, Bellame, by thee live in fame; Riv'lezzo, Beldame Pazza, live in shame. Lash on and slash the vice of shaved crowns In thy Bardino, nuns, and sylvan clowns. Give virtue beauty, beauty desert and praise, And that thy monument of brass shall raise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 48 by GEORGE SANTAYANA COLD HANDS WARM HEART by KAREN SWENSON THE THRUSH'S NEST by JOHN CLARE I SIT AND SEW by ALICE RUTH MOORE DUNBAR-NELSON THE BABIE by JEREMIAH EAMES RANKIN AN OLD SWEETHEART [OF MINE] by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |