Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HYMN TO POVERTY, by EDWARD MOORE (1712-1757)


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HYMN TO POVERTY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O poverty! Thou source of human art
Last Line: I sink beneath the terrors of thy face.
Subject(s): Poverty


O POVERTY! thou source of human art,
Thou great inspirer of the poet's song!
In vain Apollo dictates, and the Nine
Attend in vain, unless thy mighty hand
Direct the tuneful lyre. Without thy aid
The canvass breathes no longer. Music's charms,
Uninfluenc'd by thee, forget to please:
Thou giv'st the organ sound; by thee the flute
Breathes harmony; the tuneful viol owns
Thy powerful touch. The warbling voice is thine;
Thou gav'st to Nicolini every grace,
And every charm to Farinelli's song.
By thee the lawyer pleads. The soldier's arm
Is nerv'd by thee. Thy pow'r the gownman feels,
And, urg'd by thee, unfolds Heaven's mystic truths.
The haughty fair that swells with proud disdain,
And smiles at mischiefs which her eyes have made,
Thou humblest to submit and bless mankind.
Hail pow'r omnipotent! me uninvok'd
Thou deign'st to visit; far, alas! unfit
To bear thy awful presence. O retire!
At distance let me view thee, lest too nigh
I sink beneath the terrors of thy face.





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