Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Poems
The rugged Cyclops sweetly sang, Turned poet for his dear nymph's sake.
Another place, another time; Yet still, methinks, the tale is true, And here, in England's misty clime, I am turned poet, loving you.
Unworthy, all unworthy I, Yet this I know, I too would sing Mayhap here too Love's alchemy May fashion a diviner thing.
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