Not Joy Sang He
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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Not joy sang he
But
Always drear
And
Always sad:
He saw Futility in All that be:
He was a pessimist
And yet a realist.
With broken heart
He sang with magic tongue
The haunting of decrepit beauty
The joys of pain:
His Voice has long
Long haunted me:
His Soul breathed in me
Despair-with-beauty
And thus sang I too
Not always
Despair-with-beauty.
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