POETRY
Reading edition
The poems of Earth are lived, Not scratched with the dirty pen. They are writ in the sense of things And sung in the hearts of men. Sensuous strains of Spring Pouring in silver flood, Summer’s golden delight Warming the waiting blood. Colour, and scent, and sound Of all the changing year:— These are the poems of Earth Which every man must hear. Sorrow, and pain, and love, Joy, and fear, and regret:— These are the burning poems That all our hearts beget. These are the poems of Earth That every man must pen: Which you and I make up And straight forget again.