WITH stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right That music of my nature, day and night With dream and thought and feeling interwound, And inly answering all the senses round With octaves of a mystic depth and height Which step out grandly to the infinite From the dark edges of the sensual ground. This song of soul I struggle to outbear Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole, And utter all myself into the air: But if I did it, -- as the thunder-roll Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there, Before that dread apocalypse of soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ROSAMONDE: A BALADE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY PSALM 71 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ADVENTURERS OF SCIENCE by BERTON BRALEY PILLAR WORK by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON PSYCHE by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER EPIGRAM ON THE BRAZIERS' COMPANY HAVING RESOLVED by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE GOLDEN WEDDING by EDWARD CARPENTER TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER by EDWARD CARPENTER |