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Blackberries
by William Allingham
Allingham, William (1824-1889)
[epigraph]
[dedication]
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[Dear Poet! is thy free light step the same]
[Tho' out of fashion, still to me]
[With wrappings and knottings your meaning you hide]
[A song or a riddle? I best like a song.]
[For Heaven's sake, Mighty Poet! leave thy tricks]
[Accurst, O Poet! be thy song]
[“Love's but a kind of itch”]
Epitaph (between the Lines).
[“Why murmur at this foolish crown of bays?”]
[A new Thing's rare indeed! The Poets play]
[Good Sense and Poetry, old friends, are now not seen together]
[The Poet launched a stately fleet: it sank.]
Advice to a Young Poet.
Self-Criticism.
A Public Monument.
[Apollo smiles on bards of every sort]
Inscription omitted on a Public Monument.
Statua Infelix.
To a Modern Poet.
Modern Poet answers
[A brilliant literature, no doubt, have we.]
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Blackberries
[A new Thing's rare indeed! The Poets play]
A new
Thing's rare indeed! The Poets play
But variations mostly,—even they.
Blackberries
