My Songs
By George Sterling
Your beauty bids my spirit fare
To heavens till now unknown;
Earth's voices in that lyric air
Sink to an undertone.
The world's hard truths are there a lie,
Its joys are foolish things;
To those who gain that pathless sky
Their sorrows are their wings.
Debarred (nor ever at my will)
From that domain of blue,
Some echo of its music still
I strive to hold for you —
The murmur of a song remote,
Too faint for men to heed,
Yet dear to you because I wrote,
To me because you read.
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