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Sonnet

Rating: 2.8

Oh for a poet—for a beacon bright
To rift this changless glimmer of dead gray;
To spirit back the Muses, long astray,
And flush Parnassus with a newer light;
To put these little sonnet-men to flight
Who fashion, in a shrewd mechanic way,
Songs without souls, that flicker for a day,
To vanish in irrevocable night.

What does it mean, this barren age of ours?

Here are the men, the women, and the flowers,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sylvaonyema Uba 11 February 2017

... this barren age of ours? Nice example of Italian sonnet. Well written and communicated. Sylva-Onyema Uba

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