For Sir Philip Sydney

Had I the skill to write so well as you,
My lapidary words would go to waste,
As, should you live, you'd see that it is true
That modern minds still hear, but have no taste.
Our celebrated poets merely drone.
Your era's music far beyond their reach,
And their pathetic verses stay unknown,
Except to those benighted souls who teach,
And their misguided charges, cheated, charged
To think themselves refined, and, thus, apart
From troglodytes, whose brains are not enlarged
Enough for them to recognize as art
What you, if you should rise again to hear,
Would say you find offensive to your ear.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 62 times
Written on 2015-11-25 at 14:49

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