Laurel is a sacred leaf And forbidden to be worn Lest Apollo, flushed with scorn, Shoot the rhymester for a thief. Yet if any human grief Be half uttered in a song The dark laurel will belong To all poets that have writ. Let your heart but mend my wit And my crown is not a wrong. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...READ THE SIGNS by CLARENCE MAJOR CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING I by HAYDEN CARRUTH EVENING IN A SUGAR ORCHARD by ROBERT FROST ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST INEVITABLY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MOTHER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |