Countee Cullen (30 May 1903 – 9 January 1946 / New York)
Song In Spite Of Myself
Never love with all your heart,
It only ends in aching;
And bit by bit to the smallest part
That organ will be breaking.
Never love with all your mind,
It only ends in fretting;
In musing on sweet joys behind,
too poignant for forgetting.
Never love with all your soul,
for such there is no ending;
though a mind that frets may find control,
and a shattered heart find mending.
Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed,
Confine some undercover,
And when love goes, bid him God-speed,
and find another lover.
Countee Cullen's Other Poems
- A Brown Girl Dead
- For A Lady I Know
- For A Poet
- From the Dark Tower
- Fruit of the Flower
- Harlem Wine
- I Have A Rendezvous With Life
- In Memory Of Col. Charles Young
- Karenge Ya Marenge
- Lines To My Father
- Saturday's Child
- She Of The Dancing Feet Sings
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