Birth
Oozed silently from 'Your' pitcher
A drop into my bosom fragile
No noise, a gentle splash
Like a secret to sage's ear.
And erased sweetly my name
From Angelic books two
Palm's grace and forehead's glory
All in but, a treat so neat and sweet.
And into my bosom deep a sheet
So doubtless and wide me could see
And the mighty pen pierced down into veins
Carving His own name, His fame.
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