Pale are the words I build for my delight
To house in; pale as the chill mist that holds
An ardent morn. My fire to others' sight
But dimly burns through the frail speech it moulds;
I cast but shadows from my inward light.
But, O my Joy, thou understandest well
Both what I can and what I cannot tell.
Pale Are The Words I Build For My Delight
Robert Laurence Binyon
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Poem topics: fire, house, joy, light, speech, delight, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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