TELL me, what is a poet’s thought?
Is it on the sudden born?
Is it from the starlight caught?
Is it by the tempest taught,
Or by whispering morn?
Was it cradled in the brain?
Chain’d awhile, or nurs’d in night?
Was it wrought with toil and pain?
Did it bloom and fade again,
Ere it burst to light?
No more question of its birth:
Rather love its better part!
’T is a thing of sky and earth,
Gathering all its golden worth
From the Poet’s heart.
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Comments
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+Aww.+ What a thing to ponder. I think it is different for every poet. This is a nice little poem. "Did it bloom and fade again?" Ha...this has happened to me a couple of times. Great job. Love and Blessings, Ashlee
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