James Oppenheim
They set the slave free, striking off his chains....Then he was as much of a slave as ever.He was still chained to servility,He was still manacled to indolence and sloth,He was still bound by fear and superstition,By ignorance, suspicion, and savagery ...His slavery was not in the chains,But in himself ...They can only set free men free ...And there is no need of that:Free men set themselves free.
They set the slave free, striking off his chains....Then he was as much of a slave as ever.He was still chained to servility,He was still manacled to indolence and sloth,He was still bound by fear and superstition,By ignorance, suspicion, and savagery ...His slavery was not in the chains,But in himself ...They can only set free men free ...And there is no need of that:Free men set themselves free.
They set the slave free, striking off his chains....Then he was as much of a slave as ever.
They set the slave free, striking off his chains....
Then he was as much of a slave as ever.
He was still chained to servility,He was still manacled to indolence and sloth,He was still bound by fear and superstition,By ignorance, suspicion, and savagery ...His slavery was not in the chains,But in himself ...
He was still chained to servility,
He was still manacled to indolence and sloth,
He was still bound by fear and superstition,
By ignorance, suspicion, and savagery ...
His slavery was not in the chains,
But in himself ...
They can only set free men free ...And there is no need of that:Free men set themselves free.
They can only set free men free ...
And there is no need of that:
Free men set themselves free.
Do you think, my boy, when I put my arms around youTo still your fears,That it is I who conquer the dark and the lonely night?My arms seem to wrap love about you,As your little heart fluttering at my breastThrobs love through me ...But, dear one, it is not your father:Other arms are about you, drawing you near,And drawing the Earth near, and the Night near,And your father near....Some day you shall lie alone at nights,As now your father lies;And in those arms, as a leaf fallen on a tranquil stream,Drift into dreams and healing sleep.
Do you think, my boy, when I put my arms around youTo still your fears,That it is I who conquer the dark and the lonely night?My arms seem to wrap love about you,As your little heart fluttering at my breastThrobs love through me ...But, dear one, it is not your father:Other arms are about you, drawing you near,And drawing the Earth near, and the Night near,And your father near....Some day you shall lie alone at nights,As now your father lies;And in those arms, as a leaf fallen on a tranquil stream,Drift into dreams and healing sleep.
Do you think, my boy, when I put my arms around youTo still your fears,That it is I who conquer the dark and the lonely night?
Do you think, my boy, when I put my arms around you
To still your fears,
That it is I who conquer the dark and the lonely night?
My arms seem to wrap love about you,As your little heart fluttering at my breastThrobs love through me ...
My arms seem to wrap love about you,
As your little heart fluttering at my breast
Throbs love through me ...
But, dear one, it is not your father:Other arms are about you, drawing you near,And drawing the Earth near, and the Night near,And your father near....
But, dear one, it is not your father:
Other arms are about you, drawing you near,
And drawing the Earth near, and the Night near,
And your father near....
Some day you shall lie alone at nights,As now your father lies;And in those arms, as a leaf fallen on a tranquil stream,Drift into dreams and healing sleep.
Some day you shall lie alone at nights,
As now your father lies;
And in those arms, as a leaf fallen on a tranquil stream,
Drift into dreams and healing sleep.
Though I am little as all little things,Though the stars that pass over my tininess are as the sands of the sea,Though the garment of the night was made for a sky-giant and does not fit me,Though even in a city of men I am as nothing,Yet at times the gift of life is almost more than I can bear....I laugh with joyousness, the morning is a blithe holiday;And in the overrunning of my hardy bliss praise rises for the very breath I breathe.How soaked the universe is with life—Not a cranny but is drenched!Ah, not even I was overlooked!
Though I am little as all little things,Though the stars that pass over my tininess are as the sands of the sea,Though the garment of the night was made for a sky-giant and does not fit me,Though even in a city of men I am as nothing,Yet at times the gift of life is almost more than I can bear....I laugh with joyousness, the morning is a blithe holiday;And in the overrunning of my hardy bliss praise rises for the very breath I breathe.How soaked the universe is with life—Not a cranny but is drenched!Ah, not even I was overlooked!
Though I am little as all little things,Though the stars that pass over my tininess are as the sands of the sea,Though the garment of the night was made for a sky-giant and does not fit me,Though even in a city of men I am as nothing,Yet at times the gift of life is almost more than I can bear....I laugh with joyousness, the morning is a blithe holiday;And in the overrunning of my hardy bliss praise rises for the very breath I breathe.
Though I am little as all little things,
Though the stars that pass over my tininess are as the sands of the sea,
Though the garment of the night was made for a sky-giant and does not fit me,
Though even in a city of men I am as nothing,
Yet at times the gift of life is almost more than I can bear....
I laugh with joyousness, the morning is a blithe holiday;
And in the overrunning of my hardy bliss praise rises for the very breath I breathe.
How soaked the universe is with life—Not a cranny but is drenched!Ah, not even I was overlooked!
How soaked the universe is with life—
Not a cranny but is drenched!
Ah, not even I was overlooked!
Who is the runner in the skies,With her blowing scarf of stars,And our earth and sun hovering like bees about her blossoming heart!Her feet are on the winds where space is deep;Her eyes are nebulous and veiled;She hurries through the night to a far lover.
Who is the runner in the skies,With her blowing scarf of stars,And our earth and sun hovering like bees about her blossoming heart!Her feet are on the winds where space is deep;Her eyes are nebulous and veiled;She hurries through the night to a far lover.
Who is the runner in the skies,With her blowing scarf of stars,And our earth and sun hovering like bees about her blossoming heart!Her feet are on the winds where space is deep;Her eyes are nebulous and veiled;She hurries through the night to a far lover.
Who is the runner in the skies,
With her blowing scarf of stars,
And our earth and sun hovering like bees about her blossoming heart!
Her feet are on the winds where space is deep;
Her eyes are nebulous and veiled;
She hurries through the night to a far lover.