Truly the poet is omnipotent
Truly the poet is omnipotent:
His magic alters melody of birds,
Puts life, love, glory, into dead cold words,
Conjures all angels 'neath the gray sky's tent,
Bathes common things in light Hesperian. Thus
My garden I prefer to yours, Alcinoüs.
His magic alters melody of birds,
Puts life, love, glory, into dead cold words,
Conjures all angels 'neath the gray sky's tent,
Bathes common things in light Hesperian. Thus
My garden I prefer to yours, Alcinoüs.
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