Myst'ries Seed

(an ode to William Shakespeare)

To read the lines of he who has stirred hearts

In generations gone and which remain

In regions far abroad and nearby parts

Whose Muse upon the stage holds light domain;

Amazes each: the mind, the eye, the ear.

A trail to take true care to tread upon,

And stepping blind, 'tis strange we do not steer

Beyond the path, the Poet's pre-scrib'd song

To search, perhaps, for sights we cannot see

Through times' obscured, dim and distant lens.

I would we'd let our lips determin'd be

To taste ambrosia issued from his pens.

But then, perhaps, we fear our ignorance

Would transplant mystr'ies seed and grow offence.

copyright1994 anthonybaldwin