Self-harmony.

Ourselves within ourselves, we then are free
To touch the world at every turn, and take
The moods of men and mingle them with ours;
But ourselves out of ourselves, we are slaved
To every passing rumour, loose our hold,
And slipping in the flood of circumstance
Are whirled away.

Robert Crawford The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.