Excerpt from Fifty Poems
Fifty Poems
I
Thanksgiving
To whom be thanks? To them whose sorrow I
Perforce did share, though their bright fortitude
I could not share:
To them chief thanks, whose half-suppress'd low sigh
Taught me the bitterness of solitude
I could not bear.
And unto them be thanks, those poor who showed
How cheerfully and plaintless men may live;
For whom to die
Were but to lose an unsustainable load,
Since barren life scarce even bread could give
Them to live by.
And unto you, poor lost ones evil-starr'd,
Who taught me all your evil, and taught then
Its impotence;
To you be thanks, by weak regret unmarr'd;
For how should I ever o'erprize again
Your lures of sense?
But you, O poets of the living word.
And you, magicians of rich melodies.
How should I pay
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