Song's Futility

By George Sterling

'Tis but the ghost of beauty that I bring:
    Of star and moon, of twilight and the flow'r,
    Of Music in her lone, unhappy hour,
I give thee gleam and echo, offering
But shadows oŁ the loveliness I sing.
    So must it be: it lies beyond Art's pow'r
    To pluck the central rose of Beauty's bow'r;
Her deeper heavens defy his eager wing.

Of what avail my worship and its grief,
    As now I strain the bonds of speech, and long
        To find a thousand ways to call thee fair,
Except beyond the words thou find belief,
    Beyond belief, the heart that breaks with song,
        Beyond the song, Love's silences to share?


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