To a Strenuous Critic

You scorn as idle—you who praise
Each posturing hero of the herd—
The lofty bearing of a phrase,
The noble countenance of a word.

"This has no import for the age!"
And so your votive wreaths you heap
On him who brought unto our Stage
A mightier dulness o'er the deep.

Great Heaven! When these with clamour
shrill
Drift out to Lethe's harbour bar,
A verse of Lovelace shall be still
As vivid as a pulsing star.

Media: <html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">To a Strenuous Critic</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">You scorn as idle—you who praise</p><p class="line">Each posturing hero of the herd—</p><p class="line">The lofty bearing of a phrase,</p><p class="line">The noble countenance of a word.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">"This has no import for the age!"</p><p class="line">And so your votive wreaths you heap</p><p class="line">On him who brought unto our Stage</p><p class="line">A mightier dulness o'er the deep.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Great Heaven! When these with clamour</p><p class="line">shrill</p><p class="line">Drift out to Lethe's harbour bar,</p><p class="line">A verse of Lovelace shall be still</p><p class="line">As vivid as a pulsing star.</p></div></body></html>