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When I attain to utter forth in verse
Some inward thought, my soul throbs audibly Along my pulses, yearning to be free And something farther, fuller, higher, rehearse To the individual, true, and the universe, In consummation of right harmony: But, like a wind-exposed distorted tree, We are blown against for ever by the curse Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak ! The effluence of each is false to all, And what we best conceive we fail to speak. Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall, And then resume thy broken strains, and seek Fit peroration without let or thrall. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |