As to Being Alone: Difference between revisions

From Off the Road Database

No edit summary
No edit summary
 
(3 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown)
Line 4: Line 4:
   genre="Poetry"
   genre="Poetry"
   publisher="The Century Co."
   publisher="The Century Co."
   journal="Songs for the New Era"
   journal="Songs for the New Age"
   page_range="7-8"
   page_range="7-8"
/>
/>
Line 12: Line 12:
<paragraph keywords="">
<paragraph keywords="">
<poem>
<poem>
WHY did you hate to be by yourself,
Why did you hate to be by yourself,
::: And why were you sick of your own company?
And why were you sick of your own company?
</poem>
</poem>
</paragraph>
</paragraph>
Line 31: Line 31:
Silence and space terrified me, bringing the thought of  
Silence and space terrified me, bringing the thought of  
::: what an irritable clod I was and how soon death  
::: what an irritable clod I was and how soon death  
::: would gulp me down ...
::: would gulp me down...  
</poem>
</poem>
</paragraph>
</paragraph>
Line 40: Line 40:
This fear has reared cities:
This fear has reared cities:
The cowards flock together by the millions lest they  
The cowards flock together by the millions lest they  
::: should be left alone for a half hour ...
::: should be left alone for a half hour...
With church, theater and school,
With church, theater and school,
With office, mill and motor,
With office, mill and motor,
With a thousand cunning devices, and clever calls to  
With a thousand cunning devices, and clever calls to  
::: each other,
::: each other,
They escape from themselves to the crowd ...
They escape from themselves to the crowd...
</poem>
</poem>
</paragraph>
</paragraph>
Line 56: Line 56:
The warm bath of humanity in which I relaxed and  
The warm bath of humanity in which I relaxed and  
::: soaked myself:
::: soaked myself:
And never, I hope, shall I be without it&mdash;at times ...
And never, I hope, shall I be without it&mdash;at times...
</poem>
</poem>
</paragraph>
</paragraph>
Line 63: Line 63:
<paragraph keywords="">
<paragraph keywords="">
<poem>
<poem>
But now myself calls me ...
But now myself calls me...
The skies demand me, though it is but ten in the  
The skies demand me, though it is but ten in the  
::: morning:
::: morning:
The earth has an appointment with me, not to be  
The earth has an appointment with me, not to be  
::: broken ...
::: broken...
I must accustom myself to the gaunt face of the Sub-
I must accustom myself to the gaunt face of the Sub-
::: time ...
::: time...
I must see what I really am, and what I am for,
I must see what I really am, and what I am for,
And what this city is for, and the Earth and the stars  
And what this city is for, and the Earth and the stars  
::: in their hurry ...
::: in their hurry...
</poem>
</poem>
</paragraph>
</paragraph>

Latest revision as of 16:06, 16 July 2024

Bibliographic Information
Author Oppenheim, James
Genre Poetry
Journal or Book Songs for the New Age
Publisher The Century Co.
Year of Publication 1914
Pages 7-8
Additional information -


Why did you hate to be by yourself,
And why were you sick of your own company?


Such the question, and this the answer:


I feared sublimity:
I was a little afraid of God:
Silence and space terrified me, bringing the thought of
what an irritable clod I was and how soon death
would gulp me down...


This fear has reared cities:
The cowards flock together by the millions lest they
should be left alone for a half hour...
With church, theater and school,
With office, mill and motor,
With a thousand cunning devices, and clever calls to
each other,
They escape from themselves to the crowd...

urbancarenginetechnology


Oh, I have loved it all:
Snug rooms, the talk, the pleasant feast, the pictures:
The warm bath of humanity in which I relaxed and
soaked myself:
And never, I hope, shall I be without it—at times...


But now myself calls me...
The skies demand me, though it is but ten in the
morning:
The earth has an appointment with me, not to be
broken...
I must accustom myself to the gaunt face of the Sub-
time...
I must see what I really am, and what I am for,
And what this city is for, and the Earth and the stars
in their hurry...


To turn out typewriters,
To invent a new breakfast food,
To devise a dance that was never danced until now,
To urge a new sanitation, and a swifter automobile—
Have the life-surging heavens no business but this?

cartechnology