Copper Sun (Cullen)/Protest

by Countee Cullen

Protest

(To John Trounstine)

I LONG not now, a little while at least,For that serene interminable hourWhen I shall leave this Barmecidal feastWith poppy for my everlasting flower;I long not now for that dim cubicleOf earth to which my lease will not expire,Where he who comes a tenant there may dwellWithout a thought of famine, flood, or fire.

Surely that house has quiet to bestow—Still tongue, spent pulse, heart pumped of its last throb,The fingers tense and tranquil in a row,The throat unwelled with any sigh or sob—But time to live, to love, bear pain and smile,Oh, we are given such a little while!