Page:Poems Blind.djvu/19

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aspirations.
15
Thus, through thy wan and weak and worn-out clay,
The full-orbed soul floods her ethereal light;
Purer than pure moonbeams shineth her wondrous ray;
For, through the racking fire, she winged her upward flight.


II.
Each word that falleth from thy lips,
Is like a seed that lieth long;
Then sprouts within my spirit's deeps,
And buds and blossoms forth in song.