English poem
NUMBER XIV. On SHAKESPEARE
by Charles Prentiss (1774–1820)
"Thou vast, prolific, intellectual mine." Thy tho'ts how bright, how noble, how divine. Tho Voltaire, stealing literary pelf, Would blast those wreaths he could not wear himself, See, in the muses' heaven, his greatness sink, Before thy frowning ere, in coward meanness shrink.
More by Charles Prentiss
- NUMBER VI. On LIFE and DEATH
- NUMBER X. On PETER PINDAR
- NUMBER XII. ON THE QUESTION—WHAT IS BEAUTY. [The thoughts from Voltaire.]
- NUMBER XIII. On RUM DRINKING
- NUMBER XIX. A certain Lawyer observed that calf skin properly shaved would make good paper
- NUMBER XVI. To a Poet with clouts on
- NUMBER XVII. [TYPOGRAPHICAL.] To the same
- NUMBER XX. On a man of a full purse and empty heart