Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO CHARLES LAMB, by JOHN COWPER POWYS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO CHARLES LAMB, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Not thine to tread the midmost marl of hell
Last Line: These were thy gift, and these outlast the skies.
Subject(s): Flowers; God; Hell; Love; Mothers; Muses


Not thine to tread the midmost marl of hell,
Not thine to pluck the unfading fruits of Heaven;
Not unto thee the immortal Muse has given
To people flowery isles with twilight spell.
But here, where toiling men have lived and loved
For immemorial ages; here, where rolls
The confluent commerce of the opposing poles,
Thy Muse holds court and revel unreproved.
Other and greater bards brought Heaven to Earth,
But thou didst raise this homely Earth of ours,
Thy Mother still for all her haggard eyes,
To seat her at God's feet -- tear-wistful Mirth,
Sweet Love, and Fancy's freshest morning flowers,
These were thy gift, and these outlast the skies.





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