…thinking unutterable things

90

Young Juan wan­dered by the glassy brooks
Think­ing unut­ter­able things. He threw
Him­self at length with­in the leafy nooks
Where the wild branch of the cork for­est grew.
There poets find mate­ri­als for their books,
And every now and then we read them through,
So that their plan and prosody are eli­gi­ble,
Unless like Wordsworth they prove unin­tel­li­gi­ble.

Image and audio extract © Peter Gal­lagher, 2012

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prospero

Byron fan (not fanatic); poetry lover (not tragic); doctor of melancholia (not gloom).