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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419549" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To John Milton</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">_'From his honoured friend, William Davenant'_</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poet of mighty power, I fain<br>Would court the muse that honoured thee,<br>And, like Elisha's spirit, gain<br>A part of thy intensity;<br>And share the mantle which she flung<br>Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though faction's scorn at first did shun<br>With coldness thy inspired song,<br>Though clouds of malice passed thy sun,<br>They could not hide it long;<br>Its brightness soon exhaled away<br>Dank night, and gained eternal day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The critics' wrath did darkly frown<br>Upon thy muse's mighty lay;<br>But blasts that break the blossom down<br>Do only stir the bay;<br>And thine shall flourish, green and long,<br>With the eternity of song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy genius saw, in quiet mood,<br>Gilt fashion's follies pass thee by,<br>And, like the monarch of the wood,<br>Towered oer it to the sky,<br>Where thou couldst sing of other spheres,<br>And feel the fame of future years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though bitter sneers and stinging scorns<br>Did throng the muse's dangerous way,<br>Thy powers were past such little thorns,<br>They gave thee no dismay;<br>The scoffer's insult passed thee by,<br>Thou smild'st and mad'st him no reply.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Envy will gnaw its heart away<br>To see thy genius gather root;<br>And as its flowers their sweets display<br>Scorn's malice shall be mute;<br>Hornets that summer warmed to fly,<br>Shall at the death of summer die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though friendly praise hath but its hour.<br>And little praise with thee hath been;<br>The bay may lose its summer flower,<br>But still its leaves are green;<br>And thine, whose buds are on the shoot,<br>Shall only fade to change to fruit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fame lives not in the breath of words,<br>In public praises' hue and cry;<br>The music of these summer birds<br>Is silent in a winter sky,<br>When thine shall live and flourish on,<br>Oer wrecks where crowds of fames are gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The ivy shuns the city wall,<br>When busy clamorous crowds intrude,<br>And climbs the desolated hall<br>In silent solitude;<br>The time-worn arch, the fallen dome,<br>Are roots for its eternal home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bard his glory neer receives<br>Where summer's common flowers are seen,<br>But winter finds it when she leaves<br>The laurel only green;<br>And time from that eternal tree,<br>Shall weave a wreath to honour thee;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sunny wreath for poets meet,<br>From Helicon's immortal soil,<br>Where sacred Time with pilgrim feet<br>Walks forth to worship, not to spoil,<br>A wreath which Fame creates and bears,<br>And deathless genius only heirs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nought but thy ashes shall expire;<br>Thy genius, at thy obsequies,<br>Shall kindle up its living fire<br>And light the muse's skies;<br>Ay, it shall rise, and shine, and be<br>A sun in song's posterity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Clare">John Clare</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419549" data-title="To John Milton de John Clare" data-description="_'From his honoured friend, William Davenant'_

Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was stru..."></div>
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