OF Them that sit within the Gate I ask no guerdon but a goal, When I put up my pray'r to Fate, 'Tis not for fame or lettered scroll: Hearken, oh High Gods, what I ask: Give me some vain and splendid task. Set out of reach some gleaming prize, Beyond the effort of my hands, Make hard the way, and let my eyes Alone possess the sacred lands: Oh, let your servant strive in vain, Give him to see but not attain. Grant him to hold his stubborn way, Unchecked, along the great, white road, With Dreams to friend and Pride as stay, And Faith, the splendid spur, for goad: Send that he seek and never know, But eager and insatiate go. So shall your servant better serve, Than if, content with mean desires, He let his feeble footsteps swerve Aside, and caught at fatuous fires, Or grasped the prize and held it fast ... To know it pinchbeck at the last! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONCERNING NECESSITY by HAYDEN CARRUTH DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON READING WHITMAN IN A TOILET STALL by TIMOTHY LIU QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE |