by: Eva Gore-Booth (1870-1926)
- HE BURIED
statue through the marble gleams,
- Praying for freedom, an unwilling guest,
- Yet flooding with the light of her strange dreams
- The hard stone folded round her uncarved breast.
- Founded in granite, wrapped in serpentine,
- Light of all life and heart of every storm,
- Doth the uncarven image, the Divine,
- Deep in the heart of each man, wait for form.
POEMS BY EVA GORE-BOOTH
"Form" is reprinted from
The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. Ed. Nicholson
& Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1917.