GO learn, O green-eyed monster's fatal brood, By Art, not parasangs, to judge what's good. Look not to me for lofty sounding song; The thunder-claps to father Zeus belong. When first a tablet on my knees reclined, Apollo, lord of Lycia, spoke his mind: 'Give me, good bard, for sacrificial fare A victim fat: but let your Muse be spare. And listen, -- when your chariot skims the road, Avoid the route that takes a wagon's load; Leave open ways and trodden tracks alone, And go the gate that's narrow, but your own.' I tuned my quill, nor let the warning pass, -- A sweet cicala, not a raucous ass. Long ears and all, another bard shall bray; Let me go light, and flit my dainty way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SUN GOD by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE SHE CAME AND WENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CHRIST'S KINGDOM AMONG THE GENTILES by ISAAC WATTS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 16. CUPID HIMSELF STUNG by PHILIP AYRES THE EAGLE OF SONG by BACCHYLIDES THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HYMEN AND CUPID - MARRIAGE AND LOVE by APHRA BEHN BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE SECOND SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |