Many there be, in these our factious days,
Whose hate would unrelentingly lay low
Crown, coronet, and mitre, at a blow,
Scarce sparing even the poet’s wreath of bays,
For that thereto they may not hope to raise
Their own dull brows; with me it is not so,
Who rather would chivalric fealty owe
To rank and virtue which o’ertop my praise.
Oh, lady! ’tis a pleasant thought to me
That there exists on earth a higher sphere
Than that in which I am content to be,
Adorn’d by worth like thine, which all revere;
Whereto I yield with lowly heart sincere.
Homage profound and reverent courtesy.
(John Moultrie)
More Poetry from John Moultrie:
John Moultrie Poems based on Topics: Praise, Literature, Poets, Courtesy, Hatred, Sincerity- The Three Sons (John Moultrie Poems)
- Forget Thee? (John Moultrie Poems)
- Sonnet XIII. (John Moultrie Poems)
- Sonnet XXI. (John Moultrie Poems)
- Sonnet I. (John Moultrie Poems)
- Sonnet : The Hand Of Death (John Moultrie Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Literature Poems, Praise Poems, Poets Poems, Hatred Poems, Sincerity Poems, Courtesy PoemsBased on Keywords: mitre, chivalric, ertop