My heart doth all but burst

            to loose the feelings there a-chained.

No word has yet been born

            by which they might be given flight

            and through my mouth be uttered pure

            upon the air which bears the noblest of heaven-born.


No colors yet on palette mixed

            from curved rainbow nor from bursting flower a-bloom

            can match the burning passion of my thoughts

            which blossom full within my heart.


No melody of stringed instrument born

            nor whispered from the fairest lips

            can swell the songs that

                        my heart sings,

            as I do think and feel and know-

            yet keep

            imprisoned by my locked lips

            denied by gift of word and language.


Such feelings deep within my breast

            do struggle with my awkward tongue

                        to loose

                        to tell

                        to burst in glowing splendor

            in the brightest day or darkest night.


Until the muses bless my tongue

            and give my mind the secret of its use,

            I shall but court them in my heart

                        and hope that others looking in my eyes

                        can share my straining to be heard

                        and know.