SCORN not the sonnet; critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honors; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow a glow-worm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faeryland To struggle through dark ways; and when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains, -- alas! too few. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEAUTIFUL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE THE PHANTOM SHIP by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SPIRIT OF POETRY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW LE MARAIS DU CYNGE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE MEDITATION OF THE OLD FISHERMAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF CULLODEN by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THREE SONGS OF LOVE (CHINESE FASHION): 2. RIVER SONG by WILLIAM A. BEATTY |