I am not of those miserable males
Who sniff at vice, and, daring not to snap,
Do therefore hope for heaven. I take the hap
Of all my deeds. The wind that fills my sails,
Propels; but I am helmsman. Am I wrecked,
I know the devil has sufficient weight
To bear: I lay it not on him, or fate.
Besides, he’s damned. That man I do suspect
A coward, who would burden the poor deuce
With what ensues from his own slipperiness.
I have just found a wanton-scented tress
In an old desk, dusty for lack of use.
Of days and nights it is demonstrative,
That, like some aged star, gleam luridly.
If for those times I must ask charity,
Have I not any charity to give?
This poem was written by
1) Robert Lowell on the subject of Hillary Clinton
2) George Meredith in Modern Love
3) Meredith Wilson in The Music Man
4) Lana Turner on Johnny Stompanato (April 4, 1958)
5) Woodrow Wilson, on being canceled
For extra credit, what does the painting on top have to do with the poem?
Go to Source
Author: The Best American Poetry
