Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
Every I place my pen
the page and form the words
I felt but couldn't show 'til
And to I beg the question
Why do I thus
As one to one and to
else? If I, afraid
Of what the of stating
my cause might be,
When I and rhyme and reason
Do I write for or me?
I believe there is some
In creating for one's
But why place before the
What is best on the shelf?
Though while I write I do not that
I pen is mine alone,
Even could be misguided
As are many I known
Who swore, poor souls, that possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
in convincing some,
But could tell they did but prate
On touching something vague
Which be unproven, or,
In of content, speak in tongues
Yet know not whom they're for.
No, I am not so;
I do not I represent
force divine, but still I know
That I shall never be
To my tongue when I would speak
Or change my to suit the hour
Or pinch a blush upon my
To my joy at love gone sour.
I do not wish to
The faith others place in me
To lead the way to days,
But dark is all I see.
I for good, I toil for hope,
No one can my intent
But even those who close
Can often mistake I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is this: that I am wrong,
That my is askew,
That I shyte and call it song.
Perhaps I'll always thus,
my merits, thoughts, and deeds
'Tis well, long as I still go
And see this, my vision, leads.
is she who knows her mind
And it though she may not please.
the audience
That such honest thoughts as these.