I AM not one, but many: murmuring through My blood I seem to hear a blended cry, Ancestral-strong, bidding me up and do A million deeds before I come to die. Some of the voices call like organ tones Upon my soul for service that is meet; Others unman me with melodious moans Or evil invitations perilous-sweet. some tell of high endeavor on the seas, Some, bugle-clear, declare that war is best; Some lull me to a dream of summer ease In far-away, fair places where is rest. Betwixt high heaven and hell the ample air Thrills with their pleadings, vibrates to their breath; Deep in my heart I feel their vast despair, Their every hope, their game of life and death. It is as though a countless company Drew a great circle round me, and did press Their myriad claims nor would not let me be Until unto them all I answered, @3Yes@1. I am not one, but many: all the past Houses within my breast and summons me; And only God shall speak the word at last To quell the storm and give the mastery. Since thus, despite my cherished pride of will, The passions of my kindred clasp me still! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING by JOHN DONNE THE LAST CHRYSANTHEMUM by THOMAS HARDY ABRAHAM LINCOLN WALKS AT MIDNIGHT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE BEAN-STALK by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY AMORETTI: 37 by EDMUND SPENSER THE SHOEMAKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |