On A Lady Singing Poem by Isaac Rosenberg

On A Lady Singing



She bade us listen to the singing lark
In tones far sweeter than its own:
For fear that she should cease and leave us dark
We built the bird a feigned throne,
Shrined in her gracious glory-giving ways
From sceptred hands of starred humility-
Praising herself the more in giving praise
To music less than she.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Isaac Rosenberg

Isaac Rosenberg

Bristol / England
Close
Error Success