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For what made that in glory shine so long
But poets' Pens, pluckt from Archangels' wings?
For what made that in glory shine so long
But poets' Pens, pluckt from Archangels' wings?
Art thou a pen, whose task shall be
To drown in ink
What writers think?
read more
Art thou a pen, whose task shall be
To drown in ink
What writers think?
Oh, wisely write,
That pages white
Be not the worse for ink and thee.
You write with ease, to show your breeding,
But easy writing's curst hard reading.
You write with ease, to show your breeding,
But easy writing's curst hard reading.
Oh! nature's noblest gift--my gray-goose quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy read more
Oh! nature's noblest gift--my gray-goose quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy parent-bird to form a pen,
That might instrument of little men!
The pen wherewith thou dost so heavenly sing
Made of a quill from an angel's wing.
The pen wherewith thou dost so heavenly sing
Made of a quill from an angel's wing.
Beneath the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.
Beneath the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.
The sacred Dove a quill did lend
From her high-soaring wing.
The sacred Dove a quill did lend
From her high-soaring wing.
The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from read more
The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from an Angel's wing.
From this it appears how much more cruel the pen may be than the
sword.
[Lat., Hinc quam read more
From this it appears how much more cruel the pen may be than the
sword.
[Lat., Hinc quam sit calamus saevior euse, patet.]
