'On nerveless, tuneless lines how sadly'

written by

Charles Harpur

ON nerveless, tuneless lines how sadly
Ringing rhymes may wasted be,
While blank verse oft is mere prose madly
Striving to be poetry:
While prose thats craggy as a mountain
May Apollos sun-robe don,
Or hold the well-spring of a fountain
Bright as that in Helicon.