Sweet spoils of consecrated bowers, How dear to me these chosen flowers! I love the simplest bud that blows, I love the meanest weed that grows: Symbols of nature—every form That speaks of her this heart can warm; But ye, delicious flowers, assume In fancy's eye a brighter bloom; A dearer pleasure ye diffuse, Cull'd by the fountain of Vaucluse! For ye were nurtur'd on the sod Where PETRARCH mourn'd, and LAURA trod; Ye grew on that inspiring ground Where love has shed enchantment round; Where still the tear of passion flows, Fond tribute to a poet's woes! Yet, cherish'd flowers, with love and fame This wreath entwines a milder name; Friendship, who better knows than they The spells that smooth our length'ning way,— Friendship the blooming off'ring brought; When FORBES the classic fountain sought, For me he cull'd the fresh-blown flowers, And fix'd their hues with potent powers; Their pliant forms with skilful care He seized, and stamp'd duration there; His gift shall ever glad the eye,— Nor, like my verse is born to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EMMELINE GRANGERFORD'S 'ODE TO STEPHEN DOLWING BOTS, DEC'D' by SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS THE OLD SERGEANT by BYRON FORCEYTHE WILLSON TO A HIGHLAND GIRL; AT INVERSNAID, UPON LOCH LOMOND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE NUANCES OF MENDACITY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS WHY PLAGUE ME, LOVES? by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS TO HIS INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. N. TATE by PHILIP AYRES CHARACTERS: SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |