If Poesy Be Love
If Poesy be love, then I be Cupid:
for through poems like mine darlings are ablaze
with passion; and hearts once dull grow pellucid,
to never again hide in a lovers' haze.
If Poesy be wealth, then I be rich:
for I, now like a king of immense treasure,
am but a pauper who has found his niche,
a realm and kingdom of rhythm and measure.
If Poesy be health, then I be well:
no invalid, but a bard whose high time
nears, whose destiny only God can tell;
till then, I faithfully live by every rhyme!
So, if God and Poesy be absolving,
then I, at last, am content and evolving.
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