All things can tempt me from this craft of verse: One time it was a woman's face, or worse -- The seeming needs of my fool-driven land' Now nothing but comes readier to the hand Than this accustomed toil. When I was young. I had not given a penny for a song Did not the poet sing it with such airs That one believed he had a sword upstairs; Yet would be now, could I but have my wish, Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRIFLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE STARLING; SONNET by AMY LOWELL KEATS TO FANNY BRAWNE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: REV. LEMUEL WILEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OF JACOPO DEL SELLAIO by EZRA POUND GOOD FRIDAY HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA |