Book 10 — A MINOR POET TO HIMSELF
Reading edition
SONNET
EDWIN PARTRIDGE LEHMAN '10
We lesser poets clothe in garb ornate, In words of dizzy fire, in awkward phrase, In humble thunderings, that only daze, Though meant to rouse in flames of love or hate, The thoughts that those brave souls of stuff divine, Whose words breathe inspiration, have long since In jewelled lines set forth. Where we bear hints Of grape, they bear the ruddy full-pressed wine.
And yet the fire that thrills us is no less, Nor coarser, than the fire that they, the great, Have felt. Our pens are feebler; but the play Of deep emotions, the fine stir and stress That mark the soul's rare movements, are, in state, Equal to those of lines that make men pray.
Literary Monthly, 1909.