The Soul's Expression
With stammering lips and insufficient sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That music of my nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And inly answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth and height
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
This song of soul I struggle to outbear
Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
And utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it, -- as the thunder-roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
Before that dread apocalypse of the soul.
` Elizabeth Barrett Browning`
"Credo Of Cyrano De Bergerac"
To sing, to laugh, to dream,
To walk in my own way and be alone,
Free, with an eye to see things as they are,
A voice that means manhood--to cock my hat
Where I choose--At a word, a Yes, a No,
To fight --or write. To travel any road
Under the sun, under the stars, nor doubt
If fame or fortune lie beyound the bourne--
Never to make a line, have not heard
In my own heart; yet, with all modesty
To say: "My soul , be satisfied with flowers,
With fruit, with weeds even; but gather them
In the one garden you may call your own."
So when I win some triumph by some chance,
Render no share to Ceasar--in a word,
I am too proud to be a parasite,
And if my nature wants the germ that grows
Towering to the heaven like a mountain pine,
Or like the oak, sheltering multitudes--
I stand, not high it may be--but alone!
` Edmond Rostand `
"Artwork courtesy of and copyright by Daniel B. Holeman, who invites you
to visit his Visionary Art Gallery web site - Awaken Visions."
©2001 Designs By GoldenRose