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The Inexpressible
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| The Inexpressible written by William Henry Davies |
| From "Child Lovers", (1916) | Link to further information |
Thinking of my caged birds indoors,
My books, whose music serves my will;
Which, when I bid them sing, will sing,
And when I sing myself are still;
And that my scent is drops of ink,
Which, were my song as great as I,
Would sweeten man till he was dust,
And make the world one Araby;
Thinking how my hot passions make
Strong floods of shallows that run cold -
Oh how I burn to make my dreams
Lighten and thunder through the world!
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This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less. |