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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
PRISONED THOUGHTS.
O soul of Song, hast thou forsaken me?
Thoughts journey through my spirit night and day,
And throng the gateways of my soul, and pray
That thou, who holdest in thy hand the key,
Would'st let them forth, that they may wander free.
Listen, O distant soul, to what they say:
“We wander up and down, yet find no way
To lead us forth from our captivity.
Thoughts journey through my spirit night and day,
And throng the gateways of my soul, and pray
That thou, who holdest in thy hand the key,
Would'st let them forth, that they may wander free.
Listen, O distant soul, to what they say:
“We wander up and down, yet find no way
To lead us forth from our captivity.
“Lo! we have messages for those outside,
And all day long we beat against the gate.”
Come then, O Song, my thoughts to liberate;
Make thou, in turn, each one thy fruitful bride, —
Through life else must they daily watch and wait,
And in dark places of my soul abide.
And all day long we beat against the gate.”
Come then, O Song, my thoughts to liberate;
Make thou, in turn, each one thy fruitful bride, —
Through life else must they daily watch and wait,
And in dark places of my soul abide.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |