To The Sonnet
Many and loud the voices of today
That would, in wild discordance, drown thine own;
But spite the raucities of trumpets blown
By acolytes in the temple, and the bray
Of cosmic brass, the riotous display
Of self by those who seek but Self to throne,
Thy sempiternal flute-like undertone
Still soars serene the crests of song to sway.
Thine is the pagan power that can reach
The fiery depths and crystal peaks to fuse
A lyric fervor with a wisdom rare;
Thoy art the magic formula when Speech,
A penitent returning to the Muse,
Bespeaks the bard's devotion and despair.
|This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1923.
The author died in 1940, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.