Harold Hart Crane
As silent as a mirror is believed
Realities plunge in silence by . . .
I am not ready for repentance;
Nor to match regrets. For the moth
Bends no more than the still
Imploring flame. And tremorous
In the white falling flakes
The only worth all granting.
It is to be learned--
This cleaving and this burning,
But only by the one who
Spends out himself again.
Twice and twice
(Again the smoking souvenir,
Bleeding eidolon!) and yet again.
Until the bright logic is won
Unwhispering as a mirror
Then, drop by caustic drop, a perfect cry
Shall string some constant harmony,--
Relentless caper for all those who step
The legend of their youth into the noon.
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Comments about this poem (Legend by Harold Hart Crane )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- three legged race, lee fones
- THE PRETTY SHORES IN YOUR EYES, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- The Sounds Of Sorrow, Midnights Voice
- Breathless, Chelsy Schuman
- daily sports pun, lee fones
- humpback whales doing stuff in the ocean, Mandolyn Wind
- Your Difficult Test, Mark Kosek
- New Orleans Cries, Monica Lanier
- The Heat of the Sun, Jacqueline Nash
- the desert knows whats up, Mandolyn Wind