A curious statue, we are told, Is priz'd above its weight in gold; If the fair form the hand confess Of Phidias, or Praxiteles: But if the artist could inspire The smallest spark of heavenly fire, Though but enough to make it walk, Salute the company, or talk, This would advance the prize so high, What prince were rich enough to buy? Such if Hibernia could obtain, She sure would give it to the Dean: So to her patriot should she pay Her thanks upon his natal day. A richer present I design, A finished form, of work divine, Surpassing all the power of art; A thinking head, a grateful heart: A heart that hopes, one day, to show How much we to the Drapier owe. Kings could not send a nobler gift, A meaner were unworthy Swift | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF AUTUMN by PAUL VERLAINE FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 11 by THOMAS CAMPION DIRGE (1) by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE QUIET PILGRIM by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS SONG FOR THE LONDON VOLUNTEERS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE MEADOW STREAM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |