[BNP/E3, 49A2 – 63]
3-8-08.
Poets
Sing we not vice nor evil
Be we ever pure!
Beauty calls us. We revel
There is enough in earth to
Feed on beauty full of pain
May our minds give pith to
Things by which mankind
More beautiful things may grim.
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Earth is fair, flowers on sunset
The firm sky maketh aught
This sure of {…}
Can put joy then a song of it
Look this with that doth flit
In the locket of thy strain
Thus complete all will be
Thou, Earth, with our love of true?
Than each with our joy of thee.
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[63v]
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Man beautiful Nature growth not
In our verse alone – ‘tis sure –
But yet ‘tis not to leave a thought
Expressed, composed, and to leave wit
That Beauty ask in us to flit
In a verse sad and pure.
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‘Tis not to feed that the heart is shaken
By Beauty which did it immerse
That the {…} with a sad joy is taken
Show thus that immortal by our verse make nature more
And deeply thus {…}
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Immortal on
By having understood
A beautiful thing immortal made
In the sunrise of our verse.
