''T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before.' CAMPBELL. LADY! if for the cold and cloudy clime Where I was born, but where I would not die, Of the great Poet-Sire of Italy I dare to build the imitative rhyme, Harsh Runic copy of the South's sublime, THOU art the cause; and howsoever I Fall short of his immortal harmony, Thy gentle heart will pardon me the crime. Thou, in the pride of Beauty and of Youth, Spakest; and for thee to speak and be obey'd Are one; but only in the sunny South Such sounds are utter'd, and such charms display'd, So sweet a language from so fair a mouth -- Ah! to what effort would it not persuade? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN OLD MEN ON THE COURTHOUSE LAWN, MURRAY, KENTUCKY by JAMES GALVIN THE EXECUTIVE by DAVID IGNATOW PICKING AND CHOOSING by MARIANNE MOORE COOPER SQUARE by KAREN SWENSON EFFIGY OF A NUN (SIXTEENTH CENTURY) by SARA TEASDALE |