FRIEND, on whose face I may not look, So space and chance divide, Once more I thank you for a book Across the sundering tide; And know once more from this, as each, In notes or soft or strong, You speak the universal Speech, The Volapuk of Song. We live, alas! in prose-rid days: Yet though the crowd regard Not greatly now the verse-man's lays, The frenzy of the Bard, Take heart. No word sincere, distinct, Is lost. The heartfelt rhyme May pulse for ever on the linked Telegraphy of Time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONCE BEFORE by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE THE SKELETON IN ARMOR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE DRIVING CLOUD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE ROSE I GREW by JULIA S. ANDERSON SOLILOQUIES OF A SMALL-TOWN TAXI-DRIVER: ON THE EMOTIONS by EDGAR BARRATT LINES WRITTEN AT LOUDON MANSE by ROBERT BURNS |