All the world's malice, all the spite of fate, Cannot undo the rapture of the past. I, like a victor, hold these glories fast; And here defy the envious powers, that wait Upon the crumbling fortunes of our state, To snatch this myrtle chaplet, or to blast Its smallest leaf. Thus to the wind I cast The poet's laurel, and before their date Summon the direst terrors of my doom. For, with this myrtle symbol of my love, I reign exultant, and am fixed above The petty fates that other joys consume. As on a flowery path, through life I'll move,— As through an arch of triumph, pass the tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESPECTABILITY by ROBERT BROWNING THE RIDDLERS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE DO YOU FEAR THE WIND? by HAMLIN GARLAND NIGHT AND DAY by SIDNEY LANIER FELISE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |