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Why do you serve me so? What have I wrought for you? Could I have fought for you, Died for you, ages ago? Once in a city of wonders, Was I a poet-king? And were you a lad Of the sheep-lands, madMad with the passion to sing? ) Bid my horns blown for you, Shared my proud throne with you, Clad you with purple, a prince? Where does our dust lie buried? When shall it aU be clear? From There and Then, Oh, how and when Did we come to the Now and Here? It is dim like a dream in the morning; It is blurred like a cross-writ page: Yet-somehow I cling to you, Grope for you, sing to youFriend 0/ my yesterage!
If ever in the silence round about, Thy scarlet blossoms smote me as a shout; If ever I have loved thee, pressed my face Close to thy bosom in a lonesome place And breathed thy breath with more than lover's breathing; If ever in the spring, thy great trees, seething With hopeful juices, felt my worship-kissGrant thou the prayer that struggles out of this, My first blood-cry for succor in a fight I Alone I shouldered up the crushing night, Alone I fiung about me halls of day, Unmated went I fighting on my way, Lured on by some far-distant final good, 19 Man-Song Warming myself by fires of shipwreck wood, Feeding my hunger with my tiger heart.
Oh, I know in my heart, in the sun-quickened, blossoming soul of me, This something called self is a part, but the World is the whole of me! 31 Man-Song I am one with these growers, these singers, these earnest becomenr-Ccrheirs of the summer to be and past reons of summers! I kneel not nor grovel; no prayer with my lips shall I fashion. Close-knit in the fabric of things, fused with one common passionTo go on and become something greater-we Growers are one; None more in the World than a bird and none less than the sun; But all woven into the glad indivisible Scheme, God fashioning out in the Finite a part of his Dream!