OH author of my being! -- far more dear To me than light, than nourishment, or rest, Hygieia's blessings, Rapture's burning tear, Or the life-blood that mantles in my breast! If in my heart the love of Virtue glows, 'Twas planted there by an unerring rule; From thy example the pure flame arose, Thy life, my precept -- thy good works, my school. Could my weak powers thy numerous virtues trace, By filial love each fear should be repressed; The blush of Incapacity I'd chase, And stand, recorder of thy worth, confessed: But since my niggard stars that gift refuse, Concealment is the only boon I claim; Obscure be still the unsuccessful Muse, Who cannot raise, but would not sink, your fame. Oh! of my life at once the source and joy! If e'er thy eyes these feeble lines survey, Let not their folly their intent destroy; Accept the tribute -- but forget the lay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR COUNTRY'S CALL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT A,B,C by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 110 by PHILIP SIDNEY COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH RODGERSON'S DOUG by WILLIAM AITKEN JUNGLE by RICHMOND GEORGE ANTHONY EARLY DEATH AND FAME by MATTHEW ARNOLD |