From my spirit's gray defeat, From my pulse's flagging beat, From my hopes that turned to sand Sifting through my close-clenched hand, From my own fault's slavery, If I can sing, I still am free. For with my singing I can make A refuge for my spirit's sake, A house of shining words, to be My fragile immortality. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE YOUTH AND AGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE NO PLEDGES by FLORA J. ARNSTEIN HIS RETIREMENT by PHILIP AYRES A FRAGMENT OF AN EPIC POEM, OCCASIONED BY THE LOSS OF A GAME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD CHOPIN'S NOCTURNE IN G MINOR by ARLO BATES |