The Test of the Bards

Friend , wouldst thou put thy poets to the proof,
Read them where rolls the moorland, or the main!
Not light will be their ordeal, thus to stand
Pitted against the huge things of the earth,
And tested hard, by the all-searching sky.
Then, if indeed they bear their trial unshamed,
Grudge not the glory, the often bitter glory,
The coveted uncovetable crown,
Which they with toil and battle and wounds did earn.
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