A poet’s life.
His thwarted mind and pallid blood,
His wily thoughts a homey tramp,
Tames every mutineer’s soul
Lulls every honeyed heart
He a zealot, his lyrics ceaseless
He digs no gold, but a spring of bliss
A merchant of words, a wilderness wanderer
Who counts every sand grain glorious on his hands.
Forget the gross roads he took
The seas of peril he went through.
And when his dawn shall fade in a glimpse,
Let he meet his forever, most divine dream.
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