viernes, 10 de febrero de 2017

UNEXPRESSED

NO REAL POET EVER WOVE IN NUMBERS
ALL HIS DREAMS
LOVE AND LIFE UNITED
ARE TWIN MYSTERIES, DIFFERENT YET THE SAME
LOVE MAY STRIVE, BUT VAIN IS THE ENDEAVOR
ALL ITS BOUNDLESS RICHES TO EXPRESS
ART AND LOVE SPEAK AND THEIR WORDS MUST BE
LIKE SIGHINGS OF ILLIMITABLE FORESTS

DWELLS WITHIN THE SOUL OF EVERY ARTIST
MORE THAN ALL HIS EFFORT CAN EXPRESS
NO GREAT THINKER EVER LIVED AND TAUGHT YOU
ALL THE WONDER THAT HIS SOUL RECEIVED
NO TRUE PAINTER SET ON CANVAS
ALL THE GLORIOUS VISION HE CONCEIVED
NO MUSICIAN
BUT BE SURE HE HEARD, AND STROVE TO RENDER,
FEEBLE ECHOES OF CELESTIAL STRAINS

"Unexpressed," Adelaide Procter.

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