Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/The Poet's Joy
THE POET'S JOY
A grain of gold without alloy,A perfect thing from life's poor alchemy,Dearer than wealth or fame or power to meI hold this sweet delight, the poet's joy.When I can rise above all low annoyIn matchless flight upon the wings of songAnd sing a strain so deep, so pure so strongThat all earth's sordid strife cannot destroyThe waking dream, or kill the living thought.When I can feel in truth that I have wroughtInto the lives and deeds of men to beA noble thought, that they may know my powerWhen I am gone; my joy in that brief hourIs more than years of baser ecstacy.