All the world's malice, all the spite of fate, Cannot undo the rapture of the past. I, like a victor, hold these glories fast; And here defy the envious powers, that wait Upon the crumbling fortunes of our state, To snatch this myrtle chaplet, or to blast Its smallest leaf. Thus to the wind I cast The poet's laurel, and before their date Summon the direst terrors of my doom. For, with this myrtle symbol of my love, I reign exultant, and am fixed above The petty fates that other joys consume. As on a flowery path, through life I'll move,— As through an arch of triumph, pass the tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAIDEN QUEEN: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE ICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): THE MOVING ROCKS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS INSCRIPTION FOR THE DOOR OF [BROWNRIGG'S] CELL IN NEWGATE by GEORGE CANNING TO TWO SISTERS; A WANDERER'S FAREWELL by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |