Alan Seeger

(22 June 1888 - 4 July 1916 / New York City, New York)

Sonnet 02 - Poem by Alan Seeger

Not that I always struck the proper mean
Of what mankind must give for what they gain,
But, when I think of those whom dull routine
And the pursuit of cheerless toil enchain,
Who from their desk-chairs seeing a summer cloud
Race through blue heaven on its joyful course
Sigh sometimes for a life less cramped and bowed,
I think I might have done a great deal worse;
For I have ever gone untied and free,
The stars and my high thoughts for company;
Wet with the salt-spray and the mountain showers,
I have had the sense of space and amplitude,
And love in many places, silver-shoed,
Has come and scattered all my path with flowers.


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Read poems about / on: silver, sometimes, summer, heaven, sonnet, flower, star



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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