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Poem by Isaac Rosenberg


The Nun


So thy soul's meekness shrinks,
Too loth to show her face-
Why should she shun the world?
It is a holy place.

Concealed to itself
If the flower kept its scent,
Of itself amorous,
Less rich its ornament.

Use-utmost in each kind-
Is beauty, truth in one,
While soul rays light to soul
In one God-linked sun. 



Isaac Rosenberg


Isaac Rosenberg's other poems:
  1. The Dead Heroes
  2. The Dying Soldier
  3. The Song of Tel the Nubian
  4. Soldier: Twentieth Century
  5. Returning, We Hear the Larks


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