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The Singer Saith of His Song

Francis Thompson (1859-1907)

THE touches of man’s modern speech
Perplex her unacquainted tongue;
There seems through all her songs a sound
Of falling tears. She is not young.
Within her eyes’ profound arcane
Resides the glory of her dreams;
Behind her secret cloud of hair
She sees the Is beyond the Seems.
Her heart sole-towered in her steep spirit,
Somewhat sweet is she, somewhat wan;
And she sings the songs of Sion
By the streams of Babylon.

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