"Despise it not, ye Bards to terror steel'd, Who hurl'd your thunders round the epic field; Nor ye who strain your midnight throats to sing Joys that the vineyard and the still-house bring; Or on some distant fair your notes employ, And speak of raptures that you ne'er enjoy. I sing the sweets I know, the charms I feel, My morning incense, and my evening meal, The sweets of Hasty-Pudding. Come, dear bowl, Glide o'er my palate, and inspire my soul."
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Canto 1: st. 1, lines 1β10
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Joel_Barlow
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Joel Barlow
Joel Barlow (24 March 1754 β 26 December 1812) was an American poet and diplomat.
20 quotes on TrueQuotesView all quotes by Joel Barlow β
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