Wealth of Thought

Your thoughts so affluent that you vainly sigh
For corresponding words to give expression!
Be thankful, friend. I would to Heaven that I
Could make the same confession.

My sad complaint is poverty of thought.
Ah, do not deem my silence hidden talent.
Inspire me with your wealth, and I will not
Be any longer silent.

No: it will out itself in spite of me:
Thought and expression are the nearest neighbours;
And if not sung in chosen words, 'twill be
Told by my life and labours.

Give me the thought, and I will trust the lyre;
For, be it glibly sung or harshly stammer'd,
A living thought leaps out in words of fire,
Like red-hot iron hammer'd.
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