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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

STILL THERE ARE WORDS, by                    
First Line: Still there are words that never will be said!
Last Line: Have almost captured them and made them mine.
Subject(s): Language; Words; Vocabulary


Still there are words that never will be said!
Some sudden inhibition dams them up
Behind a wall of silence, where they beat
In vain against the barrier, then break
And shatter into fragments noiselessly.
And there are slender nuances of sound
That might be caught and welded into speech,
If one could extricate them from the depths
Of trees in summer, or of quiet rain.
Who shall interpret whispering of leaves,
Or murmuring of grasses; who translate
The hoarse, cacophonous muttering of the wind!
Sometimes, upon a clear blue autumn day,
When clouds were driven hard in furious haste,
When the air was cut by a million scintillant blades, --
Standing alone on a high imperious hill,
I have almost caught the inarticulate words --
Have almost captured them and made them mine.





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