Unexpressed
Deep in my heart that aches with the repression,And strives with plenitude of bitter pain,There lives a thought that clamors for expression,And spends its undelivered force in vain.
What boots it that some other may have thought it?The right of thoughts’ expression is divine;The price of pain I pay for it has bought it,I care not who lays claim to it—‘t is mine!
And yet not mine until it be delivered;The manner of its birth shall prove the test.Alas, alas, my rock of pride is shivered—I beat my brow—the thought still unexpressed.