That darling of the Tragic Muse, When Wrangham sung her praise, Thalia lost her rosy hues, And sicken'd at her lays: But transient was th' unwonted sigh; For soon the Goddess spied A sister-form of mirthful eye, And danc'd for joy and cried: 'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame, The fates have given to you! Still bid your Poet boast her name; @3I@1 have @3my@1 Brunton too.' Eyes that have ach'd with Sorrow! ye shall weep Tears of doubt-mingled Joy, like theirs who start From Precipices of distemper'd Sleep, On which the fierce-eyed Fiends their Revels keep, And see the rising Sun, and feel it dart New Rays of Pleasance trembling to the Heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEETHOVEN'S THIRD SYMPHONY by RICHARD HOVEY PARADISE LOST: BOOK 4 by JOHN MILTON IMAGES: 5 by RICHARD ALDINGTON THE LITTLE CLOUD by JOHN HOWARD BRYANT FAITH by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: LEAFLESS HOURS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |