FREE
by: Eugene O'Neill (1888-1953)
- EARY am
I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd,
- Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud.
- Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream,
- While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the
old Gulf Stream.
-
- I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame;
- I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price
of shame;
- But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit
craves,
- Where the rainbows play in the flying spray,
- 'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves.
-
- Then it's ho! for the plunging deck of a bark, the hoarse
song of the crew,
- With never a thought of those we left or what we are going
to do;
- Nor heed the old ship's burning, but break the shackles of
care
- And at last be free, on the open sea, with the trade wind
in our hair.
"Free" is reprinted from
the Pleiades Club Year Book. New York: Pleiades Club,
1912. |
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POEMS BY EUGENE O'NEILL |
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