Song Of The Spring To The Summer
THE POET SINGS TO HER POET O poet of the time to be, My conqueror, I began for thee. Enter into thy poet's pain, And take the riches of the rain, And make the perfect year for me. Thou unto whom my lyre shall fall, Whene'er thou comest, hear my call. O, keep the promise of my lays, Take the sweet parable of my days; I trust thee with the aim of all. And if thy thoughts unfold from me, Know that I too have hints of thee, Dim hopes that come across my mind In the rare days of warmer wind, And tones of summer in the sea. And I have set thy paths, I guide Thy blossoms on the wild hillside. And I, thy bygone poet, share The flowers that throng thy feet where I led thy feet before I died.
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"THE POET SINGS TO HER POET..."
"Song Of The Spring To The Summer" is a quintessential example of Alice Christiana Thompson Meynell's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...