To Alfred Tennyson
Poet! I come to touch thy lance with mine;
Not as a knight, who on the listed field
Of tourney touched his adversary's shield
In token of defiance, but in sign
Of homage to the mastery, which is thine,
In English song; nor will I keep concealed,
And voiceless as a rivulet frost-congealed,
My admiration for thy verse divine.
Not of the howling dervishes of song,
Who craze the brain with their delirious dance,
Art thou, O sweet historian of the heart!
Therefore to thee the laurel-leaves belong,
To thee our love and our allegiance,
For thy allegiance to the poet's art.
Wapentake
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Poem topics: dance, heart, sweet, shield, field, frost, brain, touch, divine, verse, belong, defiance, thine, token, love, song, I love you, poet, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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