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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384656" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Muse And The Poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Muse said, Let us sing a little song<br>Wherein no hint of wrong,<br>No echo of the great world need, or pain,<br>Shall mar the strain.<br>Lock fast the swinging portal of thy heart;<br>Keep sympathy apart.<br>Sing of the sunset, of the dawn, the sea;<br>Of any thing or nothing, so there be<br>No purpose to thy art.<br>Yea, let us make, art for Art's sake.<br>And sing no more unto the hearts of men,<br>But for the critic's pen.<br>With songs that are but words, sweet sounding words,<br>Like joyous jargon of the birds.<br>Tune now thy lyre, O Poet, and sing on.<br>Sing of</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>THE DAWN</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Virgin Night, all languorous with dreams<br>Of her belovèd Darkness, rose in fear,<br>Feeling the presence of another near.<br>Outside her curtained casement shone the gleams<br>Of burning orbs; and modestly she hid<br>Her brow and bosom with her dusky hair.<br>When lo! the bold intruder lurking there<br>Leaped through the fragile lattice, all unbid,<br>And half unveiled her. Then the swooning Night<br>Fell pale and dead, while yet her soul was white<br>Before that lawless Ravisher, the Light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Muse said, Poet, nay; thou hast not caught<br>My meaning. For there lurks a thought<br>Back of thy song.<br>In art, all thought is wrong.<br>Re-string thy lyre; and let the echoes bound<br>To nothing but sweet sound.<br>Strike now the chords<br>And sing of</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>WORDS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One day sweet Ladye Language gave to me<br>A little golden key.<br>I sat me down beside her jewel box<br>And turned its locks.<br>And oh, the wealth that lay there in my sight.<br>Great solitaires of words, so bright, so bright;<br>Words that no use can commonize; like God,<br>And Truth, and Love; and words of sapphire blue;<br>And amber words; with sunshine dripping through;<br>And words of that strange hue<br>A pearl reveals upon a wanton's hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again the Muse:<br>Thou dost not understand;<br>A thought within thy song is lingering yet.<br>Sing but of words; all else forget, forget.<br>Nor let thy words convey one thought to men.<br>Try once again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down through the dusk and dew there fell a word;<br>Down through the dew and dusk.<br>And all the garments of the air it stirred<br>Smelled sweet as musk;<br>And all the little waves of air it kissed<br>Turned gold and amethyst.<br>There in the dew and dusk a heart it found;<br>There in the dusk and dew<br>The sodden silence changed to fragrant sound;<br>And all the world seemed new.<br>Upon the path that little word had trod,<br>There shone the smile of God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Muse said, Drop thy lyre.<br>I tire, I tire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384656" data-title="The Muse And The Poet de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="The Muse said, Let us sing a little song
Wherein no hint of wrong,
No echo of the great world need, or pain,
Shall mar the strain.
Lock fast the swinging portal of thy heart;
Keep sympathy apart.
Sing of the sunset, of the dawn, the sea;
Of any th..."></div>
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