Classic Poem

When I go round holding my head up,
When I put on a look as if I was expecting unprecedented blessedness for myself,
When I take with joy that which comes wept over and complained about,
When I make so much less than loss of loss and so much more than gain of gain,
When the people stop gazing at their leaders and teachers and gaze at me,
When the sun dont seem so much brighter than everything else after all but something in my face seems brighter than the sun,
It is not that I am cynical or proud or want to lord it over anybody—
No, it is not that, it is everyway different from that, dear comrades:
It is only that I see luckier days for the people beyond their despairs,
It is only that I can smile for knowing the good fortune in store for man.

No one will ever know me for a prophet of evil—
I am able to see what is bad but I am able to prophesy only what is noble.
It dont seem to me I could look any man in the eye and predict disaster for him:
He may be very imperfect but he is better than the law that would let him fail.
My first call and my last call is the call of succor:
I would feel guilty enough if I had to say to any man: I can do nothing for you
Do you think the universe would dare to say it could do nothing for you?
Try to think what that would mean—try to measure the fearful confession:
Take the stars out of the heavens—it would mean more than that,
Take justice out of the dreams of man—it would mean more than that,
Take love out of the flesh and soul of man and woman—it would mean more than that.
Do nothing for him? I can do everything for him.

Come to me, I will speak the last word, I will restore you.
I am nobody—I have no great name to invoke in your behalf:
I am only myself—I can only speak in my own name and let it go at that.
Yet I am very haughty, too: I am not willing to talk in a poor way about my rich soul:
I want it to be clear how much I honor my inheritance:
I am not blind to the glory of the light that bursts from me,
I am stunned by the beauty of the song that leaps from my heart,
I see that greater than any love so far my love will include exclusion and call the exiles home.

That is the reason I go round holding my head up:
If I felt mean about the earth I would call on God for an apology,
If I felt mean because men go wrong I would feel just as mean because they go right,
And if I felt mean about the issue of life I would feel too mean to be alive,
For nothing saves you or saves me but our respect for you and for me—
No matter what the critics and the despondents may say, our respect for you and for me:
And so I challenge all the grief of life and death by all the gladness of life and death,
And I challenge all the sickness of the flesh by all the health of the flesh,
And I challenge all the greed of the world by all the generosity of the world,
And I challenge hell by heaven, and treason by loyalty, and see them subserve a compensating scheme,
And I challenge the fear of the shadow by the lure of the light,
And I challenge the brightness of the day by the radiance of the spirit,
And I challenge every question of dismay by every answer of hope—
Not caring what reasons and evidences may seem to say, challenging them by what impulse and vision may be known to say:
And so I go everywhere among men championing the dear purpose of the stars.

I do not undertake to explain the strange power that enthralls me:
I do not see how my passion comes but I see what it comes to,
Nor my love: I do not see how my love comes but I see what it comes to,
Nor can I tell how my dark or light diminishes or increases the splendor of the day but I do not scoff,
Nor why men stop as I pass and ask each other who I am but I know they feel better about their troubles after they have seen me.
That is what I have to say when I go round holding my head up.