A Trois Temps.
77
The means whereby I live. My need of you
Is just my need of life; it is the cry
Of Nature's self, Instinctive as the beat
Of heart's blood in my veins. You are my right
As power to breathe, and room to stand, and share
Of wind and sunshine, and the generous
Clear promises of midnight skies are mine,
By royal right of human heritage.
When you are here I am myself, complete,
No more, not added to, but just myself
As Nature planned—a finished man; and yet
To all the world I am but one among
The common throng about you, have no claim,
Beyond the empty courtesies of life,
Upon your time. To even hold you thus,
To tell you what I tell, to need your love
Is breaking of the law. Oh! one could laugh
At such a travesty—the law! the law!—
A gibbering skeleton that men have set
Upon an iron pedestal to fright
Their phantom consciences.———The law! the law!
I am the law unto myself. I claim
By right of my humanity, by God's own———
Is just my need of life; it is the cry
Of Nature's self, Instinctive as the beat
Of heart's blood in my veins. You are my right
As power to breathe, and room to stand, and share
Of wind and sunshine, and the generous
Clear promises of midnight skies are mine,
By royal right of human heritage.
When you are here I am myself, complete,
No more, not added to, but just myself
As Nature planned—a finished man; and yet
To all the world I am but one among
The common throng about you, have no claim,
Beyond the empty courtesies of life,
Upon your time. To even hold you thus,
To tell you what I tell, to need your love
Is breaking of the law. Oh! one could laugh
At such a travesty—the law! the law!—
A gibbering skeleton that men have set
Upon an iron pedestal to fright
Their phantom consciences.———The law! the law!
I am the law unto myself. I claim
By right of my humanity, by God's own———
