An Apology For My Son To His Master, For Not Bringing An Exercise On The Coronation Day.
Why are we Scholars plagu'd to write,
On Days devoted to Delight?
In Honour of the King, I'd play
Upon his Coronation Day:
But as for Loyalty in Rhyme,
Defer that to another Time.
Now to excuse this to my Master--
(This Want of Rhyme's a sad Disaster)
Sir, we confess you take great Pains,
And break your own, to mend our Brains.
You strive to make us learn'd, and wise;
But to what End? -- We shall not rise:
In vain should at Preferment aim,
Whilst Strangers make their happier Claim.
Why should we labour to excel,
Doom'd in Obscurity to dwell?
Then, since our Welfare gives you Pain,
(And yet your Toil may prove in vain)
I wish, for your, and for our Ease,
That all were Coronation Days.
Mary Barber's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (An Apology For My Son To His Master, For Not Bringing An Exercise On The Coronation Day. by Mary Barber )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- Unforseen Reality, Seema Chowdhury
- The Stone Carver, John F. McCullagh
- Everglades, Liilia Talts Morrison
- Do Not Let Go Of God's Hands, Seema Chowdhury
- Be Ready to Move Forward, Seema Chowdhury
- My Two Friends, Naveed Akram
- *Sigh*, Michael McParland
- Mouna Vrata - The Vow of Silence., Hardik Vaidya
- Handle, Aparna Chatterjee
- Dorothy Slept In The Emerald Eye Of Cycl.., mary douglas