POET
Liberty Hyde Bailey
Tell me, O Poet, where thou dost live
Show me the place whereon thou dost stand
Lead me to the crests that give
Those wondrous scenes thou dost command
And let my waiting soul enwreathe
The rarer airs that thou dost breathe
Upon thy diamond shore.
He took me by the hand
And led me to my own hearthstone
We paused upon the wonted floor
And silent stood alone—
Till all the space was over-pent
With a magic wonderment;
And I found the Poet’s store
On the threshold of my door.
Reprinted Doulos Christou Press, 2008)
C. Christopher Smith is the founding editor of The Englewood Review of Books. He is also author of a number of books, including most recently How the Body of Christ Talks: Recovering the Practice of Conversation in the Church (Brazos Press, 2019). Connect with him online at: C-Christopher-Smith.com
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