If men, and times were now Of that true face As when they both were great, and both knew how That fortune to embrace, By cherishing the spirits that gave their greatness grace: I then could raise my notes Loud to the wondering throng And better blazon them, than all their coats, That were the happy subject of my song. But, clownish pride hath got So much the start Of civil virtue, that he now is not Nor can be of desert, That hath not country impudence enough to laugh at art, Whilst like a blaze of straw, He dies with an ill scent, To every sense, and scorn to those that saw How soon with a self-tickling he was spent. Break then thy quills, blot out Thy long watched verse And rather to the fire, than to the rout Their laboured tunes rehearse, Whose air will sooner hell, than their dull senses pierce; Thou that dost spend thy days To get thee a lean face, And come forth worthy ivy, or the bays, And in this age, canst hope no other grace. Yet since the bright, and wise, Minerva deigns Upon so humbled earth to cast her eyes: We'll rip our richest veins And once more strike the ear of time with those fresh strains: As shall besides delight And cunning of their ground Give cause to some of wonder, some despite, But unto more despair to imitate their sound. Throw, Holy Virgin, then, Thy crystal shield About this isle, and charm the round, as when Thou mad'st in open field The rebel giants stoop, and Gorgon envy yield, Cause reverence, if not fear, Throughout their general breasts, And by their taking, let it once appear Who worthy win, who not, to be wise Pallas' guests. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN THE MORNING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO JOHN KEATS; SONNET by AMY LOWELL OUR BIRTH-CORD by KOFI ANYIDOHO THE POET by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY THE SKY-GYPSY by WALTER BARDECK |