Countee Cullen

(30 May 1903 – 9 January 1946 / New York)

Song In Spite Of Myself - Poem by Countee Cullen

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.


Comments about Song In Spite Of Myself by Countee Cullen

  • (1/17/2019 8:25:00 PM)

    sorrrrrryyyyyyy! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 29, 2010



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