Porter, I durst not mell with sacred writ, Nor woe the mistress 'fore I win the maid; For my young years are tasked; it's yet unfit, For youth as eld is never half so staid. Thyself which hath the sum of Art and Wit Thus much I know unto me would have said; Thy silver bell could not so sweetly sing If that too soon thou hadst begun her ring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORIAL TO D.C.: 2. PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 16 by OMAR KHAYYAM TO A REPUBLICAN FRIEND, 1848, CONTINUED by MATTHEW ARNOLD WRITTEN ON THE LEAVES OF A FAN by FRANCIS ATTERBURY THE SUN IS DOWN by JOANNA BAILLIE FOR THE QUEEN MOTHER by JOHN BETJEMAN BLACKSMITH PAIN by OTTO JULIUS BIERBAUM |