Category: Poetry
"Though my hands have not learned to model The dreams of a groping mind, Though my lips have not spoken their music And are leaving no songs behind, Think not that my life has been futile, Nor grieve for an unsaid word, For all that my lips might never sing My singing heart ha...
Once in his youth, While his new ears could yet distinguish truth, He heard a listless bell clang langorously, A liquid, languid clamor, The talking tone of iron struck by the h...
1. Part 1"Though my hands have not learned to model The dreams of a groping mind, Though my lips have not spoken their music And are leaving no songs behind, Think not that my life has b...
3. Part 3And when we left the charnel place, I dared not look upon his face; For suddenly upon the street Arose the sound of trampling feet, And wheels that rumbled on the ground, _And g...