The Ear

The tympanum with perfect drum
Hears not the sound when armies come
With clarion notes and song,
Unless its stimulated nerve
Has fully learned to humbly serve
In stations which belong

To those which God designed should live
For special duties, He might give
To move mankind along
Upon the road toward perfect man,
That He might thus reveal His plan,
And happiness prolong.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.