LET wits contest, And with their words and posies windows fill: Lesse than the least Of all thy mercies, is my posie still. This on my ring, This by my picture, in my book, I write: Whether I sing, Or say, or dictate, this is my delight. Invention, rest; Comparisons, go play; wit, use thy will: Lesse than the least Of all Gods mercies, is my posie still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRELUDE; FOR GEOFFREY GORER by EDITH SITWELL THE WANDERER: A ROCOCO STUDY (FIRST VERSION) by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE HEART OF THE WOMAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MARTINEAU by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER HER EYES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |