Hidden Poem

A collection of unseen and foreseen poem.

Merops 5:15 AM

What care I , so they stand the same,-
Things of the heavenly mind,-

How long the power to give them name
Tarries yet behind?

Thus far to-day your favours reach,
O fair, appearing presences!
Ye thought my lips a single speech,
And a thousand silences.

Space grants beyond his fated road
No inch to the god of day;
And copious language still bestowed
One word, no more, to say.

~Collected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson

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