by L.E.L. (Letitia Elizabeth Landon)
'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words!
Life is in them, and death. A word can send
The crimson colour hurrying to the cheek.
Hurrying with many meanings; or can turn
The current cold and deadly to the heart.
Anger and fear are in them; grief and joy
Are on their sound; yet slight, impalpable:--
A word is but a breath of passing air.
Poem found at:
Poets' Corner
Midi playing is:
"Daydreams"