The Poet's Words
The Poet's Words
The words came, and he wrote. In dreams by night
Labor and deep grief that ages gone were dead
Stole from the past, and stood about his bed;
He sought no words; they came; he did but write.
When day was round him too, some vision bright
Or spark of glowing truth would glide between
The busy voices in a bustling scene,
Turning his heavy heart unto the light.
Whence came they? Were they gifts of long ago,
Like pansies growing on a pilgrim way?
Or but dim echoes of a vaster day
Whose harmony the happy dead may know?
That song eternal, that unwearied chime
Of seas that break around Isles of Time?
Sonnet (Classicism)
R. J. Lindley, written decades ago,
edited and presented today- 11-27-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 16 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 118
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016
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