WORDS are the stones I use in building, My house will be strong without fillet or gilding; I dig in the crypt of the centuries Where the earth is rich in ebonies. I burrow for words in the quarry of time, In the heart of the ancient hills for rhyme. There are veins of Beauty the sages have known: Milton worked where the marble shone; Our Lincoln found what he liked in the clay Of the common fields where the stones are grey. So every spirit must find a way And delve for the treasure that seems its own. But you! what are words, what are words to you! Not stone nor metal precious and true, Nor blocks to serve in a hallowed shrine, But seductive jewels cut subtle and fine, Spangles you wear to glitter and shine; I know the worth of your words to you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE BANJO by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHERE THE PICNIC WAS by THOMAS HARDY FANCY, FR. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE HANDSOME KNIGHT by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II IT IS FINISHED by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR ASOLANDO: PROLOGUE by ROBERT BROWNING VICTORIAN LADIES by MILDRED HATTON BRYAN EPIGRAM ON THE FEUDS BETWEEN HANDEL AND BONONCINI by JOHN BYROM |