Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | ||
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CVIII. VERSE AND POETRY.
Verse is but fire that crackles on the ground,Or from a parlour grate sheds warmth around;
But Poetry's the lightning-flash on high,
When thunder rides exultant o'er the sky,
And bursting clouds disclose, all rent and riven,
The awful pomp and majesty of Heaven.
Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | ||