Wonder and joy speak for themselves.
Happy Poetry Friday!
You can find the round up at Reflections on the Teche.
The things that one grows tired of—O, be sure
They are only foolish artificial things!
Can a bird ever tire of having wings?
And I, so long as life and sense endure,
(Or brief be they!) shall nevermore inure
My heart to the recurrence of the springs,
Of gray dawns, the gracious evenings,
The infinite wheeling stars. A wonder pure
Must ever well within me to behold
Venus decline; or great Orion, whose belt
Is studded with three nails of burning gold,
Ascend the winter heaven. Who never felt
This wondering joy may yet be good or great:
But envy him not: he is not fortunate.
~~~~~
*"Wonder and Joy" is in the public domain.
5 comments:
"Never inure your heart to wonder" is wise advice.
Isn't it amazing how we sometimes don't even notice the beauty that surrounds us? Lovely poem - thank you!
I agree, Tabatha!
Ruth, yes -- it can be too easy to overlook what's right in front of us.
Wishing you both wonder and joy today!
"And I, so long as life and sense endure,
(Or brief be they!) shall nevermore inure
My heart to the recurrence of the springs,"
I'll file that with "Loveliest of trees the cherry now"
Thanks for the reminder!
You're welcome, Mary Lee! I need reminders, and love to share them. :)
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