The Poets

WE too can feel such pangs within our soul As you can sing of ; we too, we have known The stirrings of such love, we can but groan Within ourselves, nor utter, at the whole Whirl of rich passions myriad-hued, that roll Through pulsing human life. The winds far-blown, The tossing ocean, grass and flower and stone. Hill, valley, dawn, noon, sunset, fill the bowl Of passionate love in hearts that overflow In yearning silence, envying still your gift God gave, to ease your souls in song, and lift Strains that reveal your vision's fire and show What we too see, yet cannot, all unswift In speech, express, nor tell the things we know.