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“ACROSS the tense chords
Thought runs before words,
Brighter than dew,
And keener than swords.
Whence it cometh,
And whither it goes,
All may conjecture,
But no man knows.
It ebbs and flows
In the dance of the leaves,
The set of summer eves,
The scent of the violets, the odor of the rose.”
Stoddard, Richard Henry.
Thought runs before words,
Brighter than dew,
And keener than swords.
Whence it cometh,
And whither it goes,
All may conjecture,
But no man knows.
It ebbs and flows
In the dance of the leaves,
The set of summer eves,
The scent of the violets, the odor of the rose.”
Stoddard, Richard Henry.
