Give me the poet's life divine, For ever fresh and young; The only hours that vex his soul Are hours that give no song; If he but can, A homeless man, Turn suffering into songs divine -- That poet's life is still divine, His life is still divine. If but the Muse will help his soul To sing a grief that's wild, No faithless spouse can pull him down, Nor disobedient child; Let her but prove His faithful love, To sing his cares in songs divine -- That poet's life is still divine, His life is still divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 1 by MARK AKENSIDE THE FIRST-FOOT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 70, 71. MUKADDIM, MUWAKHIR by EDWIN ARNOLD FINDING CYNTHIA IN PAIN, AND CRYING; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES HOW THE WINNING FOUR WEST HOME by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |