What was their tale of some one on a summit, Looking, I think, upon the endless sea,— One with a fate, and sworn to overcome it, One who was fettered and who should be free? Round him a robe, for shaming and for searing, Ate with empoisonment and stung with fire, He thro' it all was to his lord uprearing Desperate patience of a brave desire. Ay and for me there shot from the beginning Pulses of passion broken with my breath; Oh thou poor soul, enwrapped in such a sinning, Bound in the shameful body of thy death! Well, let me sin, but not with my consenting, Well, let me die, but willing to be whole: Never, o Christ,—so stay me from relenting,— Shall there be truce betwixt my flesh and soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRUTUS LIVES AGAIN IN BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: A DEAD STATESMAN by RUDYARD KIPLING THE TUFT OF KELP by HERMAN MELVILLE PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |