And Night and Day revealed, whose arm alone
Could draw the face of God, the titan high
Whose genius smote like lightning from the sky —
And shall he mold like dead leaves in the grave?
Nay he is in us! Let us dare and dare.
God help us to be brave.
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Sometimes I dip my pen and find the bottle full of fire,
It’s Etna, or Vesuvius, if those big things were small,And then ’tis but itself again, and does not smoke at all.And so my blood grows cold. I say, ‘The bottle held but ink,And, if you thought it otherwise, the worser for your think.’And then, just as I throw my scribbled paper on the floor,The bottle…
Where a river roars in rapids
Where peace has decked the pasturesOur guardian angels met.Long they had sought each otherIn God’s mysterious name,Had climbed the solemn chaos tidesAlone, with hope aflame:Amid the demon deeps had woundBy many a fearful way.As they beheld each otherTheir shout made glad the day.No need of purse delayed them,No hand of friend or kin —Nor menace…
‘Tis not too late to build our young land right,
Devout like early Rome, with hearths like hers,Hearths that will recreate the breed called man.
The moon’s an open furnace door
We shovel in our blackest griefs,Upon that grate are castOur aching burdens, loves and fearsAnd underneath them waitPaper and tar and pitch and pineCalled strife and blood and hate.Out of it all there comes a flame,A splendid widening light.Sorrow is turned to mysteryAnd Death into delight.
I
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,And knock your old blue devils out.I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts…
Kiss me and comfort my heart
I am the pilgrim boyLame, but hunting the shrine;Fleeing away from the sweets,Seeking the dust and rain,Sworn to the staff and road,Scorning pleasure and pain;Nevertheless my mouthWould rest like a bird an hourAnd find in your curls a nestAnd find in your breast a bower:Nevertheless my eyesWould lose themselves in your own,Rivers that seek the…