Zealously my Muse doth salute all thee, Enquiring of that mistique trinitee Whereof thou,'and all to whom heavens do infuse Like fyer, are made; thy body, mind, and Muse. Dost thou recover sicknes, or prevent? Or is thy Mind travail'd with discontent? Or art thou parted from the world and mee, In a good skorn of the worlds vanitee? Or is thy devout Muse retyr'd to sing Vpon her tender Elegiaque string? Our Minds part not, joyne then thy Muse with myne, For myne is barren thus devorc'd from thyne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUSKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LINES ON THE DEATH OF PHILIP MEADOWS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 45. A LITTLE WHILE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) WARNING by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB COTTAGE GARDEN PRAYER by PATRICK REGINALD CHALMERS |