William Bell Scott
Of Me - Poem by William Bell Scott
Our grandsire poets often prayed
All the nine muses for their aid!
But I, who only wander round
By pleasant autumn hedges bound,—
Sure I can pray
For inspiration much more near;
My audience dear,
Assist me to a theme to-day!
You cannot help me? but I see
I have a readier prompter here,
The child is whispering in my ear,
‘Write a pretty thing of me!’
I will, you egotistic gnome,
The best is often nearest home.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You