Sweet are the siren songs on eastern shores, To songs as sweet are pulled our English oars: And farther upon ocean venture forth The lofty sails that leave the wizard north. Altho' by fits so dense a cloud of smoke Puffs from his sappy and ill-season'd oak, Yet, as the @3Spirit of the Dream@1 draws near, Remembered loves make Byron's self sincere. The puny heart within him swells to view, The man grows loftier and the poet too. When War sweeps nations down with iron wings, Alcaeus never sang as Campbell sings; And, caught by playful wit and graceful lore, The Muse invoked by Horace bends to Moore. Theirs, not @3my@1 verses, come I to repeat, So draw the footstool nearer to your feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BACKGROUND AND DESIGN by KAREN SWENSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 54 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE BROOK; AN IDYL: THE BROOK'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY by WALT WHITMAN LOVER'S LAMENT by EVA K. ANGLESBURG LAST DAYS OF BYRON by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE FIRST FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |