Austerity of Poetry

That son of Italy who tried to blow,Ere Dante came, the trump of sacred song,In his light youth amid a festal throngSate with his bride to see a public show.

Fair was the bride, and on her front did glowYouth like a star; and what to youth belong,—Gay raiment, sparkling gauds, elation strong.A prop gave way! crash fell a platform! Lo,

Mid struggling sufferers, hurt to death, she lay!Shuddering, they drew her garments off—and foundA robe of sackcloth next the smooth, white skin.

Such, poets, is your bride, the Muse! young, gay,Radiant, adorned outside; a hidden groundOf thought and of austerity within.