By thine own tears thy song must tears beget,
O Singer! Magic mirror thou hast none
Except thy manifest heart; and save thine own
Anguish or ardour, else no amulet.
Cisterned in Pride, verse is the feathery jet
Of soulless air-flung fountains; nay, more dry
Than the Dead Sea for throats that thirst and sigh,
That song o'er which no singer's lids grew wet.
The Song-god-He the Sun-god-is no slave
Of thine; thy Hunter he, who for thy soul
Fledges his shaft: to no august control
Of thy skilled hand his quivered store he gave:
But if thy lips' loud cry leap to his smart,
The inspir'd recoil shall pierce thy brother's heart.
Sonnet Lxi: The Song-throe
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Poem topics: august, brother, magic, mirror, pride, sea, smart, sun, soul, hunter, verse, save, slave, control, anguish, god, heart, song, thine, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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