Laurel is a sacred leaf And forbidden to be worn Lest Apollo, flushed with scorn, Shoot the rhymester for a thief. Yet if any human grief Be half uttered in a song The dark laurel will belong To all poets that have writ. Let your heart but mend my wit And my crown is not a wrong. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH ON THE MONUMENT OF SIR WILLIAM DYER by KATHERINE DYER ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE by THOMAS GRAY HOPEFULLY WAITING by ANSON DAVIES FITZ RANDOLPH THE MIST AND ALL by DIXIE WILLSON A ROCKING HYMN by GEORGE WITHER VILLANELLE, WITH STEVENSON'S ASSISTANCE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS BILL SWEENY OF THE BLACK GANG by JAMES BARNES THE STUDENT'S SERENADE by ANNE BRONTE EPISTLE TO ROBERT GRAHAM OF FINTRY, REQUESTING A FAVOR by ROBERT BURNS |