The Poetry Corner

The Unuttered

By John Frederick Freeman

For so long and so long had I forgot, Serenely busied With thousand things; at whiles desire grew hot And my soul dizzied With hapless and insatiable salt thirst. Nor was I humbled Saving with shame that, running with the worst My feet yet stumbled. Pride and delight of life enchained my heart, My heart enchanted, And oh, soft subtle fingers had their part, And eyes love-haunted. But while my busy mind was thus intent, Or thus surrendered, What was it, oh what strange thing was it sent Through all that hindered A thrill that woke the buried soul in me?-- It seemed there fluttered A thought--or was it a sudden fear?--of Thee, Remote, unuttered.