 | Poems with Fables in Prose |  |
160
A Charge
If thou hast squander'd years to grave a gem
Commissioned by thine absent Lord; and, while
'Tis incomplete,
Others would bribe thy needy skill to them—
Dismiss them to the street!
Commissioned by thine absent Lord; and, while
'Tis incomplete,
Others would bribe thy needy skill to them—
Dismiss them to the street!
Shouldst thou at last discover Beauty's grove,
At last be panting on the fragrant verge,
But in the track,
Drunk with divine possession, thou meet Love—
Turn, at her bidding, back!
At last be panting on the fragrant verge,
But in the track,
Drunk with divine possession, thou meet Love—
Turn, at her bidding, back!
When round thy ship in tempest Hell appears,
And every spectre mutters up more dire
To snatch control
And loose to madness thy deep-kennell'd Fears—
Then to the helm, O Soul!
And every spectre mutters up more dire
To snatch control
And loose to madness thy deep-kennell'd Fears—
Then to the helm, O Soul!
Last; if upon the cold green-mantling sea
Thou cling, alone with Truth, to the last spar—
Both castaway
And one must perish—let it not be he
Whom thou art sworn to obey!
Thou cling, alone with Truth, to the last spar—
Both castaway
And one must perish—let it not be he
Whom thou art sworn to obey!
| Poems with Fables in Prose | |