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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WORDS TO BE FLUNG UP A STAIRWAY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Never you mind about my milksop heart!
Last Line: Our final precious food, the marrow-fat of hate.
Subject(s): Hate


Never you mind about my milksop heart!
If I no more shall be the full of the door
In your high hallway, O be very sure
That I have learned at least the way to part.
Taller than ever now, and haughtier,
The arrant body smolders, magnified
And swollen by the hot internal pride,
And saying "Ha! Well done, well rid of her!"
So to the street, my body and pride and I
Stumble? -- not we, but walk the paving-stones
In rage and passion, feeling in our bones,
Under their singing tension, that whereby
We live and nourish our condign estate --
Our final precious food, the marrow-fat of hate.





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