 | The bells |  |
86
VI.
TO ---
ON HIS BEING UNJUSTLY CRITICISED.
'Tis ever so, my friend, when one would climbThe rounds of his ambition up to fame,
And write, in blotless characters, his name
Upon the unrolled manuscript of Time,
There are some men who, as he 'tempts to rise,
Will envy him the wreath their fate denies,
And seek to wound him with their shafts of scorn.
There 're many such that mark thee on thy way.
Teach them this lesson, friend: He that is born
For greatness will be great! and enmity
Cannot unmake a Poet.—Did the thorn
That cut the brow of Jesus make him less?
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
| The bells | |