I was of late a barren plant,
Useless, insignificant,
Nor fig, nor grape, nor apple bore,
A native of the marshy shore;
But, gather'd for poetic use,
And plunged into a sable juice,
Of which my modicum I sip
With narrow mouth and slender lip,
At once, although by nature dumb,
All eloquent I have become,
And speak with fluency untired,
As if by Phoebus' self inspired.
More verses by William Cowper
- On The Same - (On The Burning Of Lord Mansfield's Library)
- On The Same By Palladas
- On The Queen's Visit To London, The Night Of The 17th March 1789
- On The Receipt Of A Hamper. (In The Manner Of Homer)
- Ovid. Trist. Lib. V. Elegy Xii.