Poems (Storrie)/The Spirit of Poetry
For works with similar titles, see The Spirit of Poetry.
The Spirit of Poetry.
O strange and subtle soul of Poetry Of what ethereal essence art thou made'? Where garnered? Where distilled? In some quaint glade Ahaunt with elfin eyes art wont to be? Or, like a pearl in thought's unfathomed sea Art thou embedded? Wherefore dost evade With coy reluctance like a timid maid Our eager and impassioned quest for thee? Oh! fainter than the fall of fairy feet, Oh! deeper than the wave's world-echoing roll, More exquisite, miraculous, divine, Than fragrance in a flower, or the fleet Aroma of a dream, thou art a soul Within the soul's imperishable shrine.