She bade us listen to the singing lark In tones far sweeter than its own: For fear that she should cease and leave us dark We built the bird a feigned throne, Shrined in her gracious glory-giving ways From sceptred hands of starred humility -- Praising herself the more in giving praise To music less than she. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EMILY SPARKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PORTRAIT OF A BOY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET PARAGRAPHS: 15 by HAYDEN CARRUTH A PECK OF GOLD by ROBERT FROST SONG OF THE WAVE by ROBERT FROST LET ME NOT HATE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |