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Poem by Philip James Bailey A Myth Apollo laid his lyre upon a stone; The stone was seized with music; and the touch Of mortal could awake the god's own tone For ever after. Marvel ye not much. Wherever God may choose, or man may dwell, This is an ever acting miracle. When once the gift of godlike poesy Hath touched the heart, it answers everything In its own tongue, but with a harmony Instinct of Heaven. Let the world then, fling Its arms of honour round the Poet's breast, And Heaven may hear Earth's music, and have rest. Philip James Bailey Philip James Bailey's other poems: 1573 Views |
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