(Bryan Waller Procter)

A Poets Thought

TELL me, what is a poets thought?
Is it on the sudden born?
Is it from the starlight caught?
Is it by the tempest taught,
Or by whispering morn?

Was it cradled in the brain?
Chaind awhile, or nursd in night?
Was it wrought with toil and pain?
Did it bloom and fade again,
Ere it burst to light?

No more question of its birth:
Rather love its better part!
T is a thing of sky and earth,
Gathering all its golden worth
From the Poets heart. 

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