A Sonnet on the Sonnet by F. C. Kolbe Lyrics

A sonnet is the body of a thought
Which enters suddenly into the poet's mind
And breathes its way mysterious as the wind,
Unrecognised, as first it was unsought.
Whilst yet unformed, 'tis kindred to the Naught
Whence it arose: the poet still must find
Some spirit-worthy shape in which to bind
The subtle life wherewith his mind is fraught.
A stanza from the mental deep,
Rhymes well-disposed with rhythm of even flow;
Full use of sense, due length of limb it gives,
A body fit. The thought, aroused from sleep,
Flushes the rhythm with a poetic glow,
And in the sonnet's form for ever lives.