VOTARY to public zeal, Minister of England's weal, Have you leisure for a song, Tripping lightly o'er the tongue, Swift and sweet in every measure, Tell me, Walpole, have you leisure? Nothing lofty will I sing, Nothing of the favourite king, Something, rather, sung with ease, Simply elegant to please. Fairy virgin, British Muse, Some unheard-of story choose: Choose the glory of the swain, Gifted with a magic strain, Swaging grief of every kind, Healing, with a verse, the mind: To him came a man of power, To him, in a cheerless hour; When the swain, by Druids taught, Soon divin'd his irksome thought, Soon the maple harp he strung, Soon with silver-accent, sung. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MUSIC AND MEMORY by JOHN ALBEE A LITANY OF ATLANTA by WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS WHAT THE THRUSH SAID by JOHN KEATS CAELIA: SONNETS: 10 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE SOUL TO THE BODY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE FARMSTEAD by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |