Scorn Not The Sonnet; Critic, You Have Frowned

Composed 1827.--Published 1827

[Composed, almost extempore, in a short walk on the western side of Rydal Lake.--I. F.]

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.

Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakspeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camöens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains--alas, too few!