HER son, albeit the Muse's livery And measured courtly paces rouse his taunts, Naked and hairy in his savage haunts, To Nature only will be bend the knee; Spouting the founts of her distillery Like rough rock-sources; and his woes and wants Being Nature's, civil limitation daunts His utterance never; the nymphs blush, not he. Him, when he blows of Earth, and Man, and Fate, The Muse will hearken to with graver ear Than many of her train can waken: him Would fain have taught what fruitful things and dear Must sink beneath the tidewaves, of their weight, If in no vessel built for sea they swim. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DEAN-BOURN, A RUDE RIVER IN DEVON, BY WHICH ... HE LIVED by ROBERT HERRICK GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 5 by RICHARD BARNFIELD WHAT IS THE SPIRIT? by KATHARINE LEE BATES MY FATHER'S CHILD by GERTRUDE BLOEDE |