[BNP/E3, 49A2 – 63]

3-8-08.

Poets

Sing we not vice nor evil

     Be we ever pure!

Beauty calls us. We revel

There is enough in earth to

     Feed on beauty full of pain

May our minds give pith to

Things by which mankind

More beautiful things may grim.

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Earth is fair, flowers on sunset

The firm sky maketh aught

This sure of {…}

Can put joy then a song of it

Look this with that doth flit

     In the locket of thy strain

Thus complete all will be

Thou, Earth, with our love of true?

Than each with our joy of thee.

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[63v]

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Man beautiful Nature growth not

In our verse alone – ‘tis sure –

But yet ‘tis not to leave a thought

Expressed, composed, and to leave wit

That Beauty ask in us to flit

     In a verse sad and pure.

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‘Tis not to feed that the heart is shaken

     By Beauty which did it immerse

That the {…} with a sad joy is taken

Show thus that immortal by our verse make nature more

And deeply thus {…}

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Immortal on

By having understood

A beautiful thing immortal made

In the sunrise of our verse.