The Magpie Sings the Great Depression:
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I have a rendezvous with Life
And all travailling lovely things,
Liking groping seeds and beating
And cracked lips warring with a fife.
I am betrothed to Beauty, scarred
With suffering though she may be;
In that she bears pain splendidly,
Her comeliness may not be marred.
The long, thin sword of dreams I wield
Is light enough for dark and doubt;
With "Life and Youth" my battle
There is no blow can dent my shield.
I keep my tryst, come dawn or dusk,
With Life, and find her always fair,
With cool, soft touch, sleep-scented
Perfumed with poppy leaves and musk.
I draw in pride with each warm
Such rainbow seed has youth to sow,
Such long, white roads young feet
I have no time to think of death.
I put no faith in any day
When this impassioned flesh of mine
Shall less desire its bread and wine
All longing lost in primal clay.
The day God blew a silver horn
To herald light and fire in birth,
The day I knew my body's worth,
I was not made for dying scorn.
When I leave earth, a slim, dark boy
(Whom men misname) will take my
Nor find my wings less eager-fanned
To waft me to Life's clearer joy.
The Magpie Sings the Great Depression