There is a pleasure in poetic pains Which only Poets know ;''"'twas rightly said; Whom could the Muses else allure to tread Their smoothest paths, to wear their lightest chains? When happiest Fancy has inspired the strains, How oft the malice of one luckless word Pursues the Enthusiast to the social board, Haunts him belated on the silent plains! Yet he repines not, if his thought stand clear, At last, of hindrance and obscurity, Fresh as the star that crowns the brow of morn; Bright, speckless, as a softly-moulded tear The moment it has left the virgin's eye, Or rain-drop lingering on the pointed thorn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WASHINGTON MONUMENT BY NIGHT by CARL SANDBURG MOST LOVELY SHADE; FOR ALICE BOUVERIE by EDITH SITWELL THE SPINNING-WHEEL [SONG] by JOHN FRANCIS WALLER ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 1 by MARK AKENSIDE THE YOUTH OF MAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD LAMENT OF AROMAITERAI by AROMAITERAI EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 21. 'TIS CONSTANCY THAT GAINS THE PRIZE by PHILIP AYRES |