You, the choice minions of the proud-lipped nine <br />Who warble at the great Apollo's knee, <br />Why do you laugh at these rude lays of mine? <br />I seek not of your brotherhood to be: <br />I do not play the public swan, nor try <br />To curve my proud neck on your vocal streams. <br />In my own little isle retreated, I <br />Lost myself in my waters and my dreams: <br />Forgetful of the world, forgotten too, <br />The cygnet of my own secluded wave <br />I sing, whilst dashing up their silver dew <br />For joy, the petty billows try to rave: <br />There is a still applause in solitude, <br />Fitting alike my merits and my mood.<br /><br />George Darley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-anonymous-poet/
