Author Oliver Goldsmith The tragic bard, a goat his humble prize,Bade satyrs naked and uncouth arise;His muse severe, secure, and undismay'd,The rustic joke in solemn strain convey'd,For novelty alone he knew could charmA lawless crowd, with wine and feasting warm. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments