FAIR lake, thy lovely and thy haunted shore Hath only echoes for the poet's lute; None may tread there but with unsandalled foot, Submissive to the great who went before, Filled with the mighty memories of yore. And yet how mournful are the records there: Captivity and exile and despair Did they endure who now endure no more, -- The patriot, the woman, and the bard, Whose names thy winds and waters bear along; What did the world bestow for their reward But suffering, sorrow, bitterness, and wrong? Genius! a hard and weary lot is thine, -- The heart thy fuel, and the grave thy shrine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE SHIRT by THOMAS HOOD ON A VOLUME OF ANONYNOUS POEMS ENTITLED A MASQUE OF POETS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONG FOR THE LONDON VOLUNTEERS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONNET: TO A CRITIC by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON TIME'S PENDULUM by GRACE O. BOLSTAD THE KAKEMONO by JESSIE GODDARD BROMAN |