In the week I start the Poetry module of my MA, I thought this was an appropriate choice.
To deftly do what many dimly think;
To fund a feeling for the world to borrow;
To turn a tear to printer's ink;
To make a sonnet of a sorrow.
Edmund Vance Cooke lived between 1866 and 1932. For a bit more info and some more of his work, look to Representative Poetry Online. (He doesn't have a Wikipedia entry! Shocking, I know.)
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