Classic Poem

Let the bright sun of Approbation shine
In warmth upon the humble rhymester's line,
And, like the lark that flutters tow'rds the light,
He spreads his pinions for a loftier flight.
The chilling frowns of critics may retard,
But cannot kill, the ardour of the Bard,
For, gaining wisdom by experience taught,
As grass grows strong from wounds by mowers wrought,
Success will come the Poet's fears to assuage,
Crowning his hopes with Poesy's perfect page.