The Soul (abjured by Scorners Who think the Soul a Fad) Is full of little corners You'd never dream it had. And in those deep recesses A martyr's zeal may lurk, Or else, where no one guesses, A modicum of Turk. My Soul is fond of talking, My Soul is full of song; So when I go out walking I take my Soul along. My Soul is all discretion; But Souls of lesser grace Too often need repression -- They have not learned their place. And Souls unduly soulful Are transcendental bores; While preachy Souls make doleful Companions out-of-doors. And hence the Earnest Student Who feels an urge to roam, May find it wise or prudent To leave his Soul at home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUNCHES OF GRAPES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE SPRING by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY TWICE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A CHILD'S GRAVE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH MIRTH by EDITH COURTENAY BABBITT BENNINGTON by WILLIAM HENRY BABCOCK |