The envious age, only to me alone, Will not allow what I do write my own; But let them rage, and 'gainst a maid conspire, So deathless numbers from my tuneful lyre Do ever flow; so Phoebus, I by thee Inspired divinely, and possest may be; I willingly accept Cassandra's faith, To speak the truth, although believed too late. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE BLACK BOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE HUNTING SONG, FR. ZAPOLYA by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A SONG OF LIFE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA THE PERSIANS (PERSAE): SALAMIS - MESSENGER by AESCHYLUS VULTURES by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM |