An Apology For Not Showing Her What I Had Wrote – William Cowper

Did not my Muse (what can she less?)
Perceive her own unworthiness,
Could she by some well-chosen theme,
But hope to merit your esteem,
She would not thus conceal her lays,
Ambitious to deserve your praise.
But should my Delia take offence,
And frown on her impertinence,
In silence, sorrowing and forlorn,
Would the despairing trifler mourn,
Curse her ill-tuned, unpleasing lute,
Then sigh and sit for ever mute.
In secret therefore let her play,
Squandering her idle notes away
In secret as she chants along,
Cheerful and careless in her song;
Nor heeds she whether harsh or clear
Free from each terror, every fear,
From that, of all most dreaded, free,
The terror of offending thee

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1 Comment

Filed under poetry, william cowper

One response to “An Apology For Not Showing Her What I Had Wrote – William Cowper

  1. jaswrites

    What pertinence hath taken the world by storm?
    And mingling with ink in its purest form.
    To whom have the sorrows lasted so far?
    Leading the legions like a wealthy czar.
    Ink in its purest form, say I will,
    Rolling about extremities of an impossible hill,
    Apoligies writen, fates concealed,
    The hand holding an ace of destiny dealed.

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