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In A Churchyard

Rating: 3.4
That flower unseen, that gem of purest ray,
Bright thoughts uncut by men:
Strange that you need but speak them, Thomas Gray,
And the mind skips and dives beyond its ken,

Finding at once the wild supposed bloom,
Or in the imagined cave
Some pulse of crystal staving off the gloom
As covertly as phosphorus in a grave.
Void notions proper to a buried head!
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COMMENTS
Not a member No 4 04 November 2006
Both brave and good enough to vie with Gray. Remarkable poetry.
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