IF antique swains wan such immortal praise, Though they alone with their melodious lays Did only charm the woods and flow'ry lawns, Satyrs, and floods, and stones, and hairy fawns: How much, brave youth, to thy due worth belongs, That charm'st not them but men with thy sweet songs? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST CACHE LA POUDRE by JAMES GALVIN TO HENRY LINCOLN JOHNSON - LAWYER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.E.B. DUBOIS - SCHOLAR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LIKE A BULRUSH by MARIANNE MOORE |