<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines (With A Volume Of The Author's Poems Sent To M.R.C.)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Go, Verse, nor let the grass of tarrying grow<br>Beneath thy feet iambic. Southward go<br>O'er Thamesis his stream, nor halt until<br>Thou reach the summit of a suburb hill<br>To lettered fame not unfamiliar: there<br>Crave rest and shelter of a scholiast fair,<br>Who dwelleth in a world of old romance,<br>Magic emprise and faery chevisaunce.<br>Tell her, that he who made thee, years ago,<br>By northern stream and mountain, and where blow<br>Great breaths from the sea-sunset, at this day<br>One half thy fabric fain would rase away;<br>But she must take thee faults and all, my Verse,<br>Forgive thy better and forget thy worse.<br>Thee, doubtless, she shall place, not scorned, among<br>More famous songs by happier minstrels sung;--<br>In Shakespeare's shadow thou shalt find a home,<br>Shalt house with melodists of Greece and Rome,<br>Or awed by Dante's wintry presence be,<br>Or won by Goethe's regal suavity,<br>Or with those masters hardly less adored<br>Repose, of Rydal and of Farringford;<br>And--like a mortal rapt from men's abodes<br>Into some skyey fastness of the gods--<br>Divinely neighboured, thou in such a shrine<br>Mayst for a moment dream thyself divine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Watson">William Watson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=539788" data-title="Lines (With A Volume Of The Author's Poems Sent To M.R.C.) de William Watson" data-description="Go, Verse, nor let the grass of tarrying grow Beneath thy feet iambic. Southward go O'er Thamesis his stream, nor halt until Thou reach the summit of a suburb hill To lettered fame not unfamiliar: there Crave rest and shelter of a scholiast fair, ..."></div> </div> </div>

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