Lines Written In Recapitulation by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I could not bring this splendid world nor any trading beast In charge of it, to defer, no, not to give ear, not in the least Appearance, to my handsome prophecies, which here I ponder and put by.
I am left simpler, less encumbered, by the consciousness that I shall by no pebble in my dirty sling avail To slay one purple giant four feet high and distribute arms among his tall attendants, who spit at his name when spitting on the ground: They will be found one day Prone where they fell, or dead sitting —and pock-marked wall Supporting the beautiful back straight as an oak before it is old.
I have learned to fail. And I have had my say. Yet shall I sing until my voice crack (this being my leisure, this my holiday) That man was a special thing, and no commodity, a thing improper to be sold.