THIS, which the shadow of my face does give, Whose counterfeit seems true, and Art alive, Shows but the part of man's infirmity, Which to Age subject, must decay, and die; Yet the internal Nature's excellence, Which does this earthly shadow influence, Perhaps some image may on paper draw, Whose essence ne'er of Time shall stand in awe: For by my Muse's help I hope to build Such monuments, as ne'er to Time shall yield; Better than from these colours can be had, And to my years, shall greater numbers add. But when some noble work I enterprise, That might advance my honour to the skies; My envious Fortune strikes a thousand ways, Destroys my labours, and so blasts my bays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD FRIDAY HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA HIS OWNE EPITAPH by FRANCOIS VILLON A BALLAD OF HELL by JOHN DAVIDSON THE HEART OF A WOMAN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON METAMORPHOSES: 11. INVOCATION OF ISIS by LUCIUS APULEIUS THE EPIPHANY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LOST LADY: SONG by WILLIAM BERKLEY |