Souls Expression, The
With stammering lips and insuffit sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That musiy nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And inly answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth a
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
This song of soul I struggle to outbear
Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
And utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it,--as the thunder-roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
Before that dread apocalypse of soul.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(ò﹏ò)
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