SUPPOSE one knew that never more might one Put pen to sonnet, well loved task; that now These fourteen lines were all he could allow To say his message, be forever done; How he would scan the word, the line, the rhyme, Intent to sum in dearly chosen phrase The windy trees, the beauty of his days, Life's pride and pathos in one verse sublime. How bitter then would be regret and pang For former rhymes he dallied to refine, For every verse that was not crystalline.... And if belike this last one feebly rang, Honor and pride would cast it to the floor Facing the judge with what was done before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE CORRESPONDENCES; HEXAMETERS AND PENTAMETERS by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH ST. JOHN'S, CAMBRIDGE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CATHOLIC HYMN by EDGAR ALLAN POE EUTERPE by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE |