FRIEND, on whose face I may not look, So space and chance divide, Once more I thank you for a book Across the sundering tide; And know once more from this, as each, In notes or soft or strong, You speak the universal Speech, The Volapuk of Song. We live, alas! in prose-rid days: Yet though the crowd regard Not greatly now the verse-man's lays, The frenzy of the Bard, Take heart. No word sincere, distinct, Is lost. The heartfelt rhyme May pulse for ever on the linked Telegraphy of Time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN EMPEROR: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE WORD by WILLIAM WALSHAM HOW MY BIRD by EMILY CHUBBUCK JUDSON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET by JOHN KEATS THE APOSTLE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER STRANGER by HARRIET GRAY BLACKWELL THE TEAMSTER by MATHILDE BLIND |