INSPIRATION
Not often do I feel that glow of thought
That fuses in its fire words, sense and soul
Into a living and triumphant whole,
Such as mere craftsmanship hath never wrought:
Yet in propitious hours that glow I feel,
And thoughts and words come freely and unbidden,
Such as I dreamed not in my mind were hidden,
And to myself a self unknown reveal:
Then do I know I've laboured not in vain.
And that what's written thus must needs endure,
Though evil fate may for a time obscure.
Or shallow critics slight it or disdain.
Vanity? No! That doth its own commend:
I speak of that which doth myself transcend.
That fuses in its fire words, sense and soul
Into a living and triumphant whole,
Such as mere craftsmanship hath never wrought:
Yet in propitious hours that glow I feel,
And thoughts and words come freely and unbidden,
Such as I dreamed not in my mind were hidden,
And to myself a self unknown reveal:
Then do I know I've laboured not in vain.
And that what's written thus must needs endure,
Though evil fate may for a time obscure.
Or shallow critics slight it or disdain.
Vanity? No! That doth its own commend:
I speak of that which doth myself transcend.