Fighting the Current

an old favorite

Not I feel like writing about, but I rediscovered one of my favorite poems and figured I'd copy it here. "Rebel," by Irene R. McLeod. I found this while browsing an aging collection (ca. 1953) and loved it.

Since I was a little child
My spirit has been fierce and wild,
With pinion flapping hard on fate,
And burnt and blown with love and hate!
I've hated all that's mean and cold,
All that's dusty, tame and old,
Comfortable lies in books,
Pallid Virtue's sidelong looks,
Fear that gags the jaws of Truth,
Doubt that weights the heels of Youth,
Saints who wash their hands too clean,
And walk where only saints have been,
And mobs that blabber "Crucify!"
On him who fixes heaven too high:
All of these I seek to blast,
Love's hate shall drive me to the last.
Beyond the murk that swallows me
There is an Eye that follows me;
There is an Ear that waits and strains
To catch the echoes of my pains;
There is a Hand outstretched to take
Utmost toll for each mistake.
These Three have stalked me down the years
To mock the passion of my tears.
I fling you scorn, unholy spy!
Though living give my faith the lie,
Though loving clip the wings of Love,
Though men humanity disprove,
Though all my suns and moons go out,
Though tongues of all the ages shout
That only death may not deceive--
I'll not believe! I'll not believe!
With ardor passionate in my breath
I'll sing my undefeated faith!
O take me, break me, peaceless life!
My soul was born to welcome strife!
O sap my heart of its deep blood,
If blood be Beauty's precious food!
There is no thing I would not give,
There is no hour I dare not live,
There is no hell I'd not explore
To find a hidden heavenly door!
O loveless spy, you wait in vain,
There is no pity in my pain,
If by my living I may prove
Faith and beauty, truth and love!
Twisted, shattered, drained and wrung,
I shall have sung! I shall have sung!