The poem
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 soul.
hi i just want to let you know mrs browning that this is a great poem iwant to know how do you write poems so good i mean it would take me days to wright a poem like that i just want you to know that this is a great poem and i think your a great poet do you think you could name one of your poems after me it would mean the world to me well i hope you get this message and its from me kendra so i hope you have a wondreful life and hop[efully i will to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is a very good poem. I'm a big fan of EBB too. She can't name a poem after you because she died in 1861. It's ok though. I just thought that you should know.