Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1921/Ecstasy
ECSTASY
I could never be properly dead,
For even alone in my grave,
These songs would go on in my head,
And May in my veins would rave.
For even alone in my grave,
These songs would go on in my head,
And May in my veins would rave.
No grief or sorrow or pain
Could bind me utterly down;
I should go shout with the rain,
And burst, with June, through the town.
Could bind me utterly down;
I should go shout with the rain,
And burst, with June, through the town.
No ancient hurt of the stars,
That scarred my heart at its birth,
Could ever make silent in me,
The songs that I sing for the earth.
That scarred my heart at its birth,
Could ever make silent in me,
The songs that I sing for the earth.
Kenneth Slade Alling
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West