Samuel Daniel

This is the Thing that I was born to do.

This is the Thing that I was born to do.

Striving to tell his woes, words would not come;
For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dumb.

Striving to tell his woes, words would not come;
For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dumb.

This many-headed monster, Multitude.

This many-headed monster, Multitude.

As that the walls worn thin, permit the mind
To look out through, and his Frailty find.

As that the walls worn thin, permit the mind
To look out through, and his Frailty find.

And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
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And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
This gain of our best glory shall be sent,
T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores?
What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident
May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours?