OCCASION'D BY AN EPIGRAM ON A LADY WHO WEPT AT IT While maudlin Whigs deplor'd their Cato's Fate, Still with dry Eyes the Tory Celia sate, But while her Pride forbids her Tears to flow, The gushing Waters find a Vent below: Tho' secret, yet with copious Grief she mourns, Like twenty River-Gods with all their Urns. Let others screw their Hypocritick Face, She shews her Grief in a sincerer Place; There Nature reigns, and Passion void of Art, For that Road leads directly to the Heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ANSWER TO PRAYER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A REPUBLIC! by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |