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Give me Barrett and Browning, Shelley,
Burns and the Lord
Byron, the words of muses, long before
Wastelands were heard,
crying for recognition,
crying for a day called their own;
just give me Blake’s, Tyger with eyes blazing,
in fearful symmetry, and give me
Keats, before
I have fears that I may cease be..
no more, and pass into nothingness
  
No joy can I find, in naked howling minds
destroyed by madness; children screaming in the
stairway, let me leave this world, frozen to
melt another day, not this day;
this day, I shall Meet in aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to the tender light, and sip wine
with the Lord by candlelight
  
In serene drunkenness these words
will be my days, my nights, at will –
Escape me? Never –lost I would be
without my Beloved! While I am I,
and Elizabeth you are you –
redefined past principles form on
My letters! All dead paper, mute and white!
Is that you Elizabeth?
 
 
It will come death, my calendar
marked by fate,
And, friends,
dear friends, -when it shall be
that this low breath is gone from me
,
my last plea and will is only this – before
that last door locked, that my
left hand shall bear a volume of Browning;
my right – Barrett’s Sonnets
crossing my silenced heart
 
 
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2008
  
Note:  All words highlighted Bold are from the poems of  said Romantic Poets…..except Wastelands….by T.S. Elliot

 

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