Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > The New Poetry: An Anthology
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  The New Poetry: An Anthology.  1917.
109. I am Weary of Being Bitter
By Arthur Davison Ficke
I AM weary of being bitter and weary of being wise,
  And the armor and the mask of these fall from me, after long.
I would go where the islands sleep, or where the sea-dawns rise,
  And lose my bitter wisdom in the wisdom of a song.
There are magics in melodies, unknown of the sages;        5
  The powers of purest wonder on secret wings go by.
Doubtless out of the silence of dumb preceding ages
  Song woke the chaos-world—and light swept the sky.
All that we know is idle; idle is all we cherish;
  Idle the will that takes loads that proclaim it strong.        10
For the knowledge, the strength, the burden—all shall perish:
  One thing only endures, one thing only—song.


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