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 JAIN BIRD HOSPITAL IN DELHI by WILLIAM MEREDITH WESTERN CIVILIZATION by JAMES GALVIN THE BUTCHER SHOP by DAVID IGNATOW VENUS IN A GARDEN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 12 by CLARENCE MAJOR DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |