(TO THE LADY OF THE CASTLE) 'HE who fears the trial, Naught can hope to gain': -- Shall I make denial A la Chatelaine? Come then, MUSE, and lend me All that poets feign: Let my verse commend me A la Chatelaine! TIME, that rarely lingers, -- TIME, that churl ingrain, -- Kisses courtier fingers A la Chatelaine; Leads her by soft places Free from stone and stain; Spares his sterner traces A la Chatelaine! Ah! benign, caressing, Still, O TIME, remain; Send thy chiefest blessing A la Chatelaine! Make her sorest troubles Light as summer rain; Crosses be but bubbles A la Chatelaine! Neither mar nor mend her; Save her toil and pain; TIME, be always tender A la Chatelaine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH HERO-WORSHIP; SONNET by AMY LOWELL DEAF HOUSE AGENT by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1839) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN |