On Poetry
THEME/S
White horse, white horse,
Deathlessly wake....
Out of the cavern of our sleep
Like laughter break
Into the moon's pure flush
And the stars' pale sheen!
How can thy magic colour mate
With grey or green,
The grey of drowsing soil
And the green of wood-gloom?
Thy feet have wings: for thee was built
Heaven's wide room.
Soar through the silver deeps
On a passion of prayer
Until the lost dawn echoes thy love
From its gold lair!
Sri Aurobindo's Comment
"Very good—a beautiful poem. Intuitive—intensely so."
Page 79
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