(On Writings of Mary & Charles Lamb)
When oft I find you hid from the common eye,
And not in a drag of suspended consciousness,
What I Knit with stars of silken satin- -
Her parallel beauty's modern electra,
Would, too, but wear out soon, of late with age:
I never seek to write, save you to please,
That our Muse from all effusions of the heart,
Be so wise and pure of a belat'd sight:
This paralys'd world at the helm of affairs,
From afar with such stillness of the mind,
Genius! twice remov'd by far more with love
Than in rhyme with thee of nothing remains,
Except which I hear you sing in bless'd hour,
Her breathless song, not in all eternity.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2013.
All Rights Reserved.
*Republished
Date Created: Sunday, July 28,2013 3: 21: 03 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem