Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility. Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene Thou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture, See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JANGLING MEMORY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD NOCTURNE IN A MINOR KEY by CONRAD AIKEN THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A SEA-SHORE GRAVE by SIDNEY LANIER |