Who says that fictions only and false hair Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty? Is all good structure in a winding stair? May no lines pass, except they do their duty Not to a true, but painted chair? Is it no verse, except enchanted groves And sudden arbors shadow coarse-spun lines? Must purling streams refresh a lover's loves? Must all be veiled while he that reads, divines, Catching the sense at two removes? Shepherds are honest people; let them sing: Riddle who list, for me, and pull for prime: I envy no man's nightingale or spring; Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme, Who plainly say, My God, My King. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 31 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE CHERRY TREES by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS TO A SISTER OF CHARITY by EDWIN GEORGE ALEXANDER NEW JERSEY by FRED CLARE BALDWIN THE BATTLE OF THE PIGMIES AND THE CRANES by JAMES BEATTIE ANTICIPATION by EMILY JANE BRONTE MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN by ROBERT BURNS |