CIVILIZATION causes me Alternate fits: disgust and glee. Buried in piles of glass and stone My private spirit moves alone, Where every day from eight to six I keep alive by hasty tricks. But I am simple in my soul; My mind is sullen to control. At dusk I smell the scent of earth, And I am dumb -- too glad for mirth. I know the savors night can give, And then, and then, I live, I live! No man is wholly pure and free, For that is not his destiny, But though I bend, I will not break: And still be savage, for Truth's sake. God damns the easily convinced (Like Pilate, when his hands he rinsed). | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENT, ON THE BACK OF THE POET'S MS. OF CANTO I OF 'DON JUAN' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON MACFLECKNOE; OR, A SATIRE UPON THE TRUE-BLUE-PROTESTANT POET by JOHN DRYDEN HOME THOUGHTS FROM FRANCE by ISAAC ROSENBERG MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 2 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE LAY OF THE LEGION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: THE SLIGHT AND DEGENERATE NATURE OF MAN by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |