< Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu
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POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG

ON A LADY SINGING

She bade us listen to the singing lark
In tones far sweeter than its own:
For fear that she should cease and leave us dark
We built the bird a feigned throne,
Shrined in her gracious glory-giving ways
From sceptred hands of starred humility—
Praising herself the more in giving praise
To music less than she.

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