English poem
The Pencil
by Humbert Wolfe (1885–1940)
With this golden pencil—write “Written words must serve for sight. For the broken lights that stirred Wedded eyes the complete word.
Written words the trembling nerve Of the lover’s ear must serve. Laughter’s done and tears are over— Written words, instead, my lover.
Words that have no scent must tell How the secret jonquils smell In your hair, and words protest There are jonquils at your breast.
Written words the gift must waste, When the very air hath taste Of your lip, the sweets that part Love’s soft mouth and reach the heart.
Separable these await For the fifth to consummate, That are nothing, each alone, But all heaven joined in one.
This, being lost, had hurt too much, Here are words instead of touch.”
Therefore write and break the lead “Love that was alive is dead.”