The Powers of the Pen A poem addressed to John Curre ... By E. Lloyd ... The second edition, with large additions |
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 | The Powers of the Pen |  |
The Muse a Glance now chanc'd to drop
Upon the Sweepings of the Shop,
And here a Pen so black she spy'd,
That the Jet whiten'd by its side.
Poetic Fiction wou'd have swore,
Some Bird of Hell this plume had wore,
Which floats on th'Acherontic Flood
And broods in black Cocytus' mud.
(And Fiction had in this been sooth,
And only feign'd poetic Truth;
For where this Feather took its birth,
Is but the Acheron of Earth—)
She ask'd its Qualities and Worth,
And thus the Penman set them forth.
Upon the Sweepings of the Shop,
And here a Pen so black she spy'd,
That the Jet whiten'd by its side.
Poetic Fiction wou'd have swore,
Some Bird of Hell this plume had wore,
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And broods in black Cocytus' mud.
(And Fiction had in this been sooth,
And only feign'd poetic Truth;
For where this Feather took its birth,
Is but the Acheron of Earth—)
She ask'd its Qualities and Worth,
And thus the Penman set them forth.
| The Powers of the Pen | |