In the rude age, when knowledge was not rife, If Jove in Crete and other were that taught Arts to convert to profit of our life Ween'd after death to have their temples sought: If Virtue yet, no void unthankful time, Failed of some to blast her endless fame (A goodly mean both to deter from crime And to her steps our sequel to inflame): In days of truth if Wyatt's friends then wail (The only debt that dead of a quick may claim) That rare wit spent, employed to our avail, Where Christ is taught, we led to Virtue's train. His lively face their breasts how did it freat, Whose cinders yet with envy they do eat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM THE SEA-LIMITS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ELEGIAC SONNET: 7. ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE NIGHTINGALE by CHARLOTTE SMITH SINCERE FLATTERY OF R.B. by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN CITY ROOFS by CHARLES HANSON TOWNE AFFINITIES by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |