Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems | ||
90
A POET'S LICENCE.
You say my harp delights to dwell
On melancholy themes alone;
And you suspect the tales I tell
Must flow from sorrows of my own.
On melancholy themes alone;
And you suspect the tales I tell
Must flow from sorrows of my own.
But when a lover's griefs intrude,
Place not implicit faith on those;
A Poet's licence may include
Many imaginary woes.
Place not implicit faith on those;
A Poet's licence may include
Many imaginary woes.
Though love at times has power to vex,—
My roving heart is fix'd on none;
I've too much love for all the sex
To be accused of loving one.
My roving heart is fix'd on none;
I've too much love for all the sex
To be accused of loving one.
Rough Sketches of Bath, and Other Poems | ||