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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONNET, by JEAN PASSERAT Poet's Biography First Line: Fowler! My friend, if riches be your aim Last Line: And through the villages doth bear the skin. | |||
FOWLER! my friend, if riches be your aim, I teach the way chill poverty to spurn: Let all the birds you've ta'en fly free, but learn One bird to snare, the bird whom Love we name. 'Tis he who, for an apple's worthless claim, Did the proud empire of the east o'erturn; Who makes, in winter, hearts like summer burn; Who robs our sleep, and sets the soul aflame. For if this bird, this wondrous bird, you take, Who hath such mischief made, and still doth make, You shall more lard, and eggs, and cheeses win Than does the hunter who in woods has ta'en Some big old fox, or some grey wolf has slain, And through the villages doth bear the skin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE FOR THE FYRST OF MAYE by JEAN PASSERAT ON THE DEATH OF THULENE THE KYNGE'S JESTER by JEAN PASSERAT SYMPHONIC STUDIES (AFTER ROBERT SCHUMANN) by EMMA LAZARUS BRUTUS LIVES AGAIN IN BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOR A MARRIAGE OF SAINT KATHERINE [OR, CATHERINE] by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE PALM-TREE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 6. TO WILLIAM HALL, ESQ., WITH THE WORKS OF CHAULIEU by MARK AKENSIDE ON LYNN TERRACE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN APRIL by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY INVITES POETS AND HISTORIANS TO WRITE IN CYNTHIA'S PRAISE by PHILIP AYRES |
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