by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892)

Epilogue
Language: English 
So, Lady Flora, take my lay,
And, if you find a meaning there,
O whisper to your glass, and say,
'What wonder, if he thinks me fair?'
What wonder I was all unwise,
To shape the song for your delight
Like long-tail'd birds of Paradise
That float thro' Heaven, and cannot light?
Or old-world trains, upheld at court
By Cupid-boys of blooming hue -- 
But take it -- earnest wed with sport,
And either sacred unto you.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2010-01-30
Line count: 12
Word count: 75