@3Phoebus@1, God belov'd by men; At thy dawn, ev'ry Beast is rouz'd in his Den; At thy Setting, all the Birds of thy absence complain, And we dye, all dye till the morning comes again, @3Phoebus@1, God belov'd by men! Idol of the Eastern Kings, Awful as the God who flings His Thunder round, and the Lightning wings; God of Songs, and @3Orphean@1 Strings, Who to this mortal bosom brings All harmonious heav'nly Things! Thy drouzie Prophet to revive, Ten thousand thousand forms before him drive; With Chariots and Horses all o' Fire awake him, Convulsions, and Furies, and Prophesies shake him: Let him tell it in Groans, tho' he bend with the load, Tho' he burst with the weight of the terrible God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: SPINNING SONG by EDITH SITWELL HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT THE SWAN AND THE GOOSE by AESOP TO MRS. THRALE [ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR] by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) TO LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD, WITH MR. DONNE'S SATIRES by BEN JONSON THE CITY AT THE END OF THINGS by ARCHIBALD LAMPMAN PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 2 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |