Thou misseth O mind in thine mindless mirth
That every shade in a rainbow palette
Ye use to paint, and brighten dreary state
Of life, is but by Heaven created.
Oblivious of thine birth, mission on earth,
Ye think: the sweet notes of melodic scale
Thou useth music to make and regale
The world, are but by Heaven created.
And forget when lost in thine puny worth,
In human brain’s immense bottom-less power,
That lets man rise and kiss tallest of tower,
Has been by Heaven, not thee, created.
Leave, mind’s ego, thine vainest pedestal,
The power ye boast bequeathed is but by soul.
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The theme of the poem is ‘Ego’s puniness against
immense powers of the spirit’.
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- Sonnets | 01.08.08 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mirth! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Many thanks, Edward Louis, for visiting this poem.