A Thanksgiving From brief delights that rise to me Out of unfathomable dole, I thank whatever gods there be For mine unconquerable soul. In the strong clutch of Circumstance It has not winced, nor groaned aloud. Before the blows of eyeless chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. I front unfeared the threat of space And dwindle into dark again. My work is done, I take my place Among the years that wait for men. My life, my broken life must be One unsuccourable dole. I thank the gods- they gave to me A dauntless and defiant soul. |
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