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Their tender accents all the time revealing
The love that lurks beneath their words' concealing.—
I want no better, more expressive tongue
Than that in which our master, Shakespeare, sung;
Give me a spark of his immortal fire
And 'tis the only favour I'll desire;
The fates whate'er they will may then deny,
And I their bounty still will magnify.
The love that lurks beneath their words' concealing.—
I want no better, more expressive tongue
Than that in which our master, Shakespeare, sung;
Give me a spark of his immortal fire
And 'tis the only favour I'll desire;
The fates whate'er they will may then deny,
And I their bounty still will magnify.
1899
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