Protest in Passing
Protest in Passing
This house of flesh was never loved of me,Though I have known much love beneath its roof,Always was I a guest who stood aloof,Loth to accept such hospitality.When the house slumbered, how I woke! for thenI knew of half-escapes along the night,But now there comes a safer swifter flight:I go; nor need endure these rooms again.I have been cowed too long by closed-in walls,By masonry of muscle, blood and bone;This quaking house of flesh that was my own,High roof-tree of the heart, see how it falls!I go—but pause upon the threshold’s rust,To shake from off my feet my own dead dust.
This house of flesh was never loved of me,Though I have known much love beneath its roof,Always was I a guest who stood aloof,Loth to accept such hospitality.When the house slumbered, how I woke! for thenI knew of half-escapes along the night,But now there comes a safer swifter flight:I go; nor need endure these rooms again.I have been cowed too long by closed-in walls,By masonry of muscle, blood and bone;This quaking house of flesh that was my own,High roof-tree of the heart, see how it falls!I go—but pause upon the threshold’s rust,To shake from off my feet my own dead dust.
This house of flesh was never loved of me,Though I have known much love beneath its roof,Always was I a guest who stood aloof,Loth to accept such hospitality.When the house slumbered, how I woke! for thenI knew of half-escapes along the night,But now there comes a safer swifter flight:I go; nor need endure these rooms again.
This house of flesh was never loved of me,
Though I have known much love beneath its roof,
Always was I a guest who stood aloof,
Loth to accept such hospitality.
When the house slumbered, how I woke! for then
I knew of half-escapes along the night,
But now there comes a safer swifter flight:
I go; nor need endure these rooms again.
I have been cowed too long by closed-in walls,By masonry of muscle, blood and bone;This quaking house of flesh that was my own,High roof-tree of the heart, see how it falls!I go—but pause upon the threshold’s rust,To shake from off my feet my own dead dust.
I have been cowed too long by closed-in walls,
By masonry of muscle, blood and bone;
This quaking house of flesh that was my own,
High roof-tree of the heart, see how it falls!
I go—but pause upon the threshold’s rust,
To shake from off my feet my own dead dust.