Call the illusion what you will, people the balcony with the leaning, beckoning masks of your own lunacy: tune your guitar to these, bringing your heart to woo your head, a struggling mood reaching clear to art; and don't listen to neighbors applauding; or see the moon come tossing a copper ring: for a man may lose his song stooping to a penny. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANGLOSAXON STREET by EARL (EARLE) BIRNEY THE CAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES DISAPPOINTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SENSITIVE PLANT by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE DISMANTLED SHIP by WALT WHITMAN VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF SARAH CANDLER by BERNARD BARTON ENTANGLEMENT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |