Edgar Lee Masters
I was not beloved of the villagers,
But all because I spoke my mind,
And met those who transgressed against me
With plain remonstrance, hiding nor nurturing
Nor secret griefs nor grudges.
That act of the Spartan boy is greatly praised,
Who hid the wolf under his cloak,
Letting it devour him, uncomplainingly.
It is braver, I think, to snatch the wolf forth
And fight him openly, even in the street,
Amid dust and howls of pain.
The tongue may be an unruly member --
But silence poisons the soul.
Berate me who will -- I am content.
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Comments about this poem (Dorcas Gustine by Edgar Lee Masters )
Did you read them?
- Unknown, Ruta Wuneh
- Bashfulness is the ornament for a youthf.., Dr.V.K. Kanniappan
- Yours, and only mine, Maya Tod
- IQ poeam, Angry Brownbear
- Lacklustre thoughts, Angry Brownbear
- Mindless Wind, Angry Brownbear
- Screams of Silence, Angry Brownbear
- Abode Aroma, Angry Brownbear
- Worth living, gajanan mishra
- Discard your vanity, gajanan mishra
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(21 November 1844 – 19 July 1926)