(9 October 1863 - 11 April 1932 / Boston, Massachusetts)

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Ardor

Others make verses of grace.
Mine are all muscle and sinew.
Others can picture your face.
But I all the tumult within you.

Others can give you delight,
And delight I confess is worth giving.
But my songs must tickle and bite
And burn with the ardor of living

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: song

Comments about this poem (Ardor by Gamaliel Bradford )

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  • Deci Hernandez (6/11/2012 4:12:00 PM)

    if you have brains use'm and bronze the same. this is life.

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  • Deci Hernandez (6/11/2012 4:11:00 PM)

    if you have brains use'm and bronze the same. this is life.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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