THE GATES OF UTTERANCE
There is a throng within the gates,
A pressing, diverse throng;—
Without, a peaceful throng awaits,
To which I would belong.
A pressing, diverse throng;—
Without, a peaceful throng awaits,
To which I would belong.
Within the gates the varied folk
Advise discordantly;—
.Without, the poet-crowds convoke
To council harmony.
Advise discordantly;—
.Without, the poet-crowds convoke
To council harmony.
Within the gates are all the heights
And depths of serried powers;
But when a lyric theme invites,
I reach outlying bowers
And depths of serried powers;
But when a lyric theme invites,
I reach outlying bowers
Where dwell the bards of quiet years;
I join my song to theirs;
My glad, unfettered spirit hears
The melody it shares.
I join my song to theirs;
My glad, unfettered spirit hears
The melody it shares.
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