[Phonoho]

Tongue of Man

In hoary words of gods he spoke
as if I had not heard
nor dared admit ineptitude;
I hung on every word

He spoke in verbs I had not known
e’er crossed the tongue of Man
and spurred me to a finer step
than idol worship can

As none would call him prophet, and
though temp'rance were his name,
his song foretold of glory yet
preceded by his fame

Where once were things unspoken, he
will one day say again;
a voice perceived in nature will
soon find its way in men

[Syrah]

One of the wonderful things about this poem is that the piece is ambiguous to the point where the voice can be interpreted to be anything you want. The words are very cleverly chosen and represent an antiqueness to them, making the words themselves seem "hoary". The meter is impeccably followed from beginning to end. The lines perfectly following syllable count of 8/6/8/6 in each stanza (granted you say temperance with 2 syllables instead of 3- which I do anyways). A very fine piece of work.

[Phonoho]

Thanks, Syrah. I was casting a broad net with this one. It could have been longer.

and spurred me to a finer step

Spurred or stirred?

[Syrah]

hmmm... either works well


I, personally, like spurred. Has that old feel to it.