Imagination plays me most intolerable tricks.
To enumerate them all would be unbearably prolix.
Just a trifle bids them gather and a trifle bids them go.
And they tease me and torment me more than anyone can know.
Tricks of strange, disordered action, tricks of strange disordered thought.
Tricks of seeking explanations most unprofitably sought.
But my will is learning daily, when the creatures growl and leap,
That a stern voice and a stinging lash will drive them back to sleep.
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Comments about this poem (Imagination by Gamaliel Bradford )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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