Lest you should think that Verse shall die, Which sounds the Silver Thames along, Taught on the Wings of Truth, to fly Above the reach of vulgar Song; Tho' daring Milton sits Sublime, In Spencer native Muses play; Nor yet shall Waller yield to time, Nor pensive Cowley's moral Lay. Sages and Chiefs long since had birth E're Caesar was, or Newton nam'd, These rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth, And Those new Heav'ns and Systems fram'd; Vain was the chief's and sage's pride They had no Poet and they dyd! In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled They had no Poet and are dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR SUSSEX DOWNS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES DEPARTURE IN THE DARK by CECIL DAY LEWIS NEEDLESS FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER DEATH by THOMAS HOOD TO THE PENDING YEAR by WALT WHITMAN ON LYDIA DISTRACTED; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |