Is there a hope, that man would thankful be, If I should fail, in gratitude, to thee To whom I am so bound, loved Aubigny? No, I do, therefore, call posterity Into the debt; and reckon on her head, How full of want, how swallowed up, how dead I, and this muse had been, if thou hadst not Lent timely succours, and new life begot: So, all reward, or name, that grows to me By her attempt, shall still be owing thee. And, than this same, I know no abler way To thank thy benefits: which is, to pay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER A LECTURE ON KEATS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES PAST AND PRESENT by THOMAS HOOD THOSE EVENING BELLS by THOMAS MOORE THOUGHTS WHILE PACKING A TRUNK by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY JANUARY MORNING by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS WELCOME GUEST by JEAN D. ARMSTRONG PATERNITY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |