She bade us listen to the singing lark In tones far sweeter than its own: For fear that she should cease and leave us dark We built the bird a feigned throne, Shrined in her gracious glory-giving ways From sceptred hands of starred humility -- Praising herself the more in giving praise To music less than she. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 29 by JAMES JOYCE CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING I by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE BUTCHER SHOP by DAVID IGNATOW OMNIPRESENCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOMEBODY LOVED ME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |