MARY! I want a lyre with other strings, Such aid from Heaven as some have feign'd they drew, An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new And undebased by praise of meaner things; That ere through age or woe I shed my wings, I may record thy worth with honour due, In verse as musical as thou art true, And that immortalizes whom it sings: But thou hast little need. There is a Book By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light, On which the eyes of God not rarely look, A chronicle of actions just and bright -- There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine; And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL ODE: INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE by JOANNA BAILLIE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 33 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THOMPSON'S VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |