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Poem by Claude McKay


O Word I Love to Sing


O word I love to sing! thou art too tender 
For all the passions agitating me; 
For all my bitterness thou art too tender, 
I cannot pour my red soul into thee. 

O haunting melody! thou art too slender, 
Too fragile like a globe of crystal glass; 
For all my stormy thoughts thou art too slender, 
The burden from my bosom will not pass. 

O tender word! O melody so slender! 
O tears of passion saturate with brine, 
O words, unwilling words, ye can not render 
My hatred for the foe of me and mine.



Claude McKay


Claude McKay's other poems:
  1. Through Agony
  2. Memorial
  3. Thirst
  4. One Year After
  5. Enslaved


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