poet Henry Timrod

Henry Timrod

#356 on top 500 poets

Why Silent?

Why am I silent from year to year?
Needs must I sing on these blue March days?
What will you say, when I tell you here,
That already, I think, for a little praise,
I have paid too dear?

For, I know not why, when I tell my thought,
It seems as though I fling it away;
And the charm wherewith a fancy is fraught,
When secret, dies with the fleeting lay
Into which it is wrought.

So my butterfly-dreams their golden wings
But seldom unfurl from their chrysalis;
And thus I retain my loveliest things,
While the world, in its worldliness, does not miss
What a poet sings.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

2,7 out of 5
28 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about Why Silent? by Henry Timrod

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: butterfly, world, dream