 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
105
THE POET'S CROWN.
Ah! they may sneer, the men who do not knowThe glory of the things the poet sees,
Who feel no magic in a western breeze,
Who see no marvel in a sheet of snow,
No mystery-mountains in the sunset glow,
Who hear no lisp of voices in the trees,
Who sit and sip their port and take their ease,
Not feeling either ecstasy or woe
Of any exalted attitude—but I
Would rather wear the crown the poet wins
Than any other underneath the sky—
Save only that, the sweetest gift of all,
Which on a favoured lover letteth fall
His mistress by a sparkle of her eye.
| Poems and Sonnets | |