poet Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick

#161 on top 500 poets

Not Every Day Fit For Verse

'Tis not ev'ry day that I
Fitted am to prophesy:
No, but when the spirit fills
The fantastic pannicles,
Full of fire, then I write
As the Godhead doth indite.
Thus enraged, my lines are hurl'd,
Like the Sibyl's, through the world:
Look how next the holy fire
Either slakes, or doth retire;
So the fancy cools:--till when
That brave spirit comes again.

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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Read poems about / on: fire, world