From The Midst Of The Fire Poem by James Thomson

From The Midst Of The Fire



FROM the midst of the fire I fling
These arrows of fire to you:
If they sing, and burn, and sting,
You feel how I burn too;
But if they reach you there
Speed-spent, charred black and cold,
The fire burns out in the air,
The Passion will not be told.

Sunday, May 6, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: fire,passion
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James Thomson

James Thomson

Port Glasgow, Scotland
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