Explore "Life" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
NAY, lift me to thy lips, Life, and once more / Pour the wild music through me --
I quivered in the reed-bed with my kind, / Rooted in Lethe-bank, when at the dawn / There came a groping shape of mystery / Moving among us, that with random stroke / Severed, and rapt me from my silent tribe, / Pierced, fashioned, lipped me, sounding for a voice, / Laughing on Lethe-bank -- and in my throat / I felt the wing-beat of the fledgeling notes, / The bubble of godlike laughter in my throat.