American poet (1898-1943)
And I have listened also, in my youth,
And more than once or twice,
To the trained speech, the excellent advice,
The clear, dramatic statement of the sum,
And, after it was dumb,
Heard, like a spook, the curious echo come,
The echo of unkempt and drawling mirth
--The lounging mirth of cracker-barrel men,
Snowed in by winter, spitting at the fire,
And telling the disreputable truth
With the sad eye that marks the perfect liar--
And, by that laughter, was set free again.
STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
Western Star
Black trees against an orange sky,
Trees that the wind shook terribly,
Like a harsh spume along the road,
Quavering up like withered arms,
Writhing like streams, like twisted charms
Of hot lead flung in snow. Below
The iron ice stung like a goad,
Slashing the torn shoes from my feet,
And all the air was bitter sleet.
STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
"The Quality of Courage", Young Adventure
For Lethe is for no man set,
And in Hell may no man forget.
STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
"The Quality of Courage", Young Adventure
The fight was done. Even gods tire of fighting.
STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
"The Quality of Courage", Young Adventure