On Poetry
THEME/S
Lustre whose vanishing point we call the sun—
Joy whose one drop drowns seas of all desire—
Life rendering time's heart a hollow hush—
Potence of poise unplumbed by infinite space!
Not unto you I strain, O miracled boons,
But that most inward marvel, the sheer Self
Who bears your beauty; and, devoid of you,
His dark unknown would yet fulfil my love.
Sri Aurobindo's Comment
"No, they are not stiff: the expression is successful and the rhythm harmonious. The first three lines are magnificent."
Page 121
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