Where is the man who has been tried and found strong and sound?
Where is the friend of reason and of knowledge?
I see only sceptics and weaklings.
I see only prisoners in the durance of the senses,
And every fool and every spendthrift
Thinks himself as great a master as Aristotle.
Think'st thou that they have written poems?
Call'st thou that a Song?
I call it the cackling of ravens.
The zeal of the prophet must free poesy
From the embrace of wanton youths.
My song I have inscribed on the forehead of Time,
They know and hate it-for it is lofty.
A Degenerate Age
Emma Lazarus
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Poem topics: friend, hate, time, embrace, great, strong, knowledge, prophet, fool, master, reason, sound, song, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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