Poems (Van Vorst)/The Apostrophe
THE APOSTROPHE
Go, unsaid thought, wordless and songless both! With fluttering pinions, still unseen, unsought,Circle the spirit's white flame like a moth—Go—unsaid thought!
Go to the one by whom my soul is taught; Go—wing your joyous journey, nothing loth Like sunbeams in the hearts of lilies caught.
Like perfume that eludes, yet lingereth;—Until your subtle mission 's fully wrought—To charm, as a dear dream's pale image doth,—Go—unsaid thought!