Heaven is high;
Sing, poet with the sorrow !
Heaven is high;
Sing, poet with the sorrow !
The seraph sings before the manifest
God-One, and in the burning of the Seven,
And with the full life of consummate
Heaving beneath him like a mother's
Warm with her first-born's slumber in that
The poet sings upon the earth grave-riven,
Before the naughty world, soon self-forgiven
For wronging him,--and in the darkness prest
From his own soul by worldly weights.
This is the poet and his poetry.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories