Lest there be any doubt that dead guys wrote better than we ...
Heaven and I wept together
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart,
I laid my own to beat
And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
excerpted from The Hound of Heaven (1907), by Francis Thompson
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart,
I laid my own to beat
And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
excerpted from The Hound of Heaven (1907), by Francis Thompson