Fear not my frequent verse may raise To your clear brow the vulgar gaze. Another I reserve in store For day yet happier; then no more. Believe (youth's happy creed!) believe That never can bright morns deceive; That brighter must arise for you Than ever the proud sun rode through. It has been said, on wedlock-land Some paths are thorny, more are sand. I hope the coming spring may show How little they who say it, know. Meanwhile with tranquil breast survey The trophies of the present day. When twenty years their course have run, Anxious we wait the following one. Lo! Fortune in full pomp descends Surrounded by her host of friends, And Beauty moves, in passing by, With loftier port and steadier eye. Alas, alas! when these are flown, Shall there be nothing quite your own? Not Beauty from her stores can give The mighty charm that makes us live, Nor shieldless Fortune overcome The shadows that besiege the tomb. You, better guarded, may be sure Your name for ages will endure, While all the powerful, all the proud, All that excite the clamorous crowd, With truncheon or with diadem, Shall lie one mingled mass with them. Chide you our praises? You alone Can doubt of glories fairly won. Genius, altho' he seldom decks Where beauty does the softer sex, Approaches you with accents bland, Attunes your voice, directs your hand. And soon will fix upon your brow A crown as bright as Love does now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WOMAN'S QUESTION by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER ELEGIAC SONNET: 7. ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE NIGHTINGALE by CHARLOTTE SMITH AT THE CARNIVAL by ANNE SPENCER MAUD MULLER by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE TRAGEDY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 38 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT EPITAPH ON MR. TURNER OF ST. MARY-HALL by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |