The stars adorn the heaven at night,
They beautify with gleaming light
The sky of dismal hue;
They shiver in the icy cold,
Response To A Criticism By Michael Shepherd Who Suggested I Should Have Written 'It's' Instead Of ''Tis'
I always thought that poetry ought
To transcend bounds of time:
I realize I archaize —
I sometimes even rhyme.
To The Greatest Poet We Have Ever Known
'My gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be, your being shall rehearse,
When all the breathers of this world are dead,
What though the angry world should try to fight thee,
And of all crimes accuse thee, innocent?
What though with wrathful words thy fellows smite thee
And it is hard for thee not to resent
Time can only go forwards,
It may not pause;
It may not retrace its steps;
It may not speed up;