The Soul (abjured by Scorners Who think the Soul a Fad) Is full of little corners You'd never dream it had. And in those deep recesses A martyr's zeal may lurk, Or else, where no one guesses, A modicum of Turk. My Soul is fond of talking, My Soul is full of song; So when I go out walking I take my Soul along. My Soul is all discretion; But Souls of lesser grace Too often need repression -- They have not learned their place. And Souls unduly soulful Are transcendental bores; While preachy Souls make doleful Companions out-of-doors. And hence the Earnest Student Who feels an urge to roam, May find it wise or prudent To leave his Soul at home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CONVENT THRESHOLD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 101 by ALFRED TENNYSON DIRGE FOR THE LATE JAMES CURRIE, M.D., OF LIVERPOOL by LUCY AIKEN A STREET SKETCH by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY TO SLEEP, WHEN SICK OF A FEVER by PHILIP AYRES THE MESSAGE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN DESERT WATERCOLOR by RUBY BOWEN THREE MINUS ONE (REFRAIN SUGGESTED BY DR. RICHARD HOFFMAN) by BERTON BRALEY |