Not thy great gifts, O God! I would not be The prophet honoured in an alien clime; Or send my name trumpeting down through time, Selling my manhood for a memory. So should I fade into the shows of me: -- My joy become the reason of a rhyme, My pain, a figure in the pantomime, My love, a light over an unknown sea. Give me but what thou givest all mankind: A little faith in that I labour for, A friend whose name I daily think to bless, A woman in whose eyes I seek and find, Children mysteriously mine -- no more Than common, ordinary happiness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEEP IN THE QUIET WOOD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 9 by JAMES JOYCE THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL THE COMING OF WAR: ACTAEON by EZRA POUND FACADE: 24. AN OLD WOMAN LAMENTS IN SPRINGTIME by EDITH SITWELL |