28.10.2007, 14:50
STRIVING to sing glad songs, I but attain
Wild discords sadder than Griefs saddest tune ;
As if an owl with his harsh screech should strain
To overgratulate a thrush of June.
The nightingale upon its thorny spray
Finds inspiration in the sullen dark ;
The kindling dawn, the world-wide joyous day
Are inspiration to the soaring lark ;
The seas are silent in the sunny calm,
Their anthem-surges in the tempest boom ;
The skies outroll no solemn thunder-psalm
Till they have clothed themselves with clouds of gloom :
My mirth can laugh and talk, but cannot sing ;
My grief finds harmonies in every thing.
Wild discords sadder than Griefs saddest tune ;
As if an owl with his harsh screech should strain
To overgratulate a thrush of June.
The nightingale upon its thorny spray
Finds inspiration in the sullen dark ;
The kindling dawn, the world-wide joyous day
Are inspiration to the soaring lark ;
The seas are silent in the sunny calm,
Their anthem-surges in the tempest boom ;
The skies outroll no solemn thunder-psalm
Till they have clothed themselves with clouds of gloom :
My mirth can laugh and talk, but cannot sing ;
My grief finds harmonies in every thing.