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...VARIATIONS: 11 by CONRAD AIKEN ESSAY ON STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH PRAYER AT SUNRISE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON BETRAND AND GOURGAUD TALK OVER OLD TIMES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BUSINESS REVERSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |