Retired, with purpose your fair worth to praise, 'Mongst Hampton shades, and Phoebus' grove of bays, I plucked a branch; the jealous god did frown, And bad me lay the usurped laurel down: Said I wronged him, and (which was more) his love. I answered, 'Daphne now no pain can prove.' Phoebus replied: 'Bold head, it is not she: Cary my love is, Daphne but my tree.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PROGRESS OF POETRY; A VARIATION by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE VOLUNTEER by HERBERT HENRY ASQUITH THREE GRAINS OF CORN; THE IRISH FAMINE by AMELIA BLANDFORD EDWARDS SONGS WITH PRELUDES: REGRET by JEAN INGELOW ADLESTROP by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 1 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY |