10/23/09
There was a child whose melodies Were built on chords of love so pure I was taken up to hear those strains And breathed in heaven's atmosphere. All the tenderness of youth And its sweet songs of innocence, My life of song renewed once more In waves of joyous renaissance. And yet too soon is youth dissolved Into the maelstrom we call life The pomp of ego dominates Its petty wants, its petty strife. And yet there is a residue Of beauty that remains with me, The memory of oneness too, And love in its tranquillity.
Poems Undated (1727)
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