I, who, borrowing myself, signing for myself, cheerfully pay my note:
Why shouldn’t I give all back, and more?
KEEP YOUR FACE TO THE SUN
Keep your face to the sun. As the day goes down let your cheer go up. The reminiscence of the light will last through the darkness. Do not lean upon what you absorb. Depend upon what you bestow. Meet the sufficient noonglare with a haughtier illumination. Do not reject sorrow. Do not shut your door in its face. Invite it in. Make it feel at home. The heart in which sorrow is an alien misses its most sacred tenant. You will not make sorrow the master of the house. But you will include sorrow among your guests. The purport of the house is joy. The purport of the house is health. The earth may pass into a cloud. But the purport of the earth is not the cloud. Things go wrong. But the purport of things is right. You see injustices. You see victims. You see shipwrecks. But the purport of experience is righteousness, deliverance, salvation. No matter which way I look I keep the sun in my face. Just as though looking into hell I keep heaven in my face. Just as though looking at cruelty I keep kindness in my face. Just as though looking at the struggle I keep the victory in my face. I am haunted with presences which arm me with peace. There is evil. We cant explain it. But there is good, too. And we cant explain good. I do not wait for the universe to explain itself. For love to argue its case. Maybe the universe cant be explained. Maybe love cant be argued about. Why should I put question marks into the sky in place of stars? It is my main business to live. To live nearest the best life I can discover. To live nearest the natural laws. To live nearest people. Not to ask for preferences. Not to expect odds. To live. To spread power. To confer exhilaration. To let the sun shine out of my face. For enough reasons or for no reason at all to let the sun shine. Taking the sun for granted. Taking the best for granted even in the face of the worst. Not being afraid that when the clock runs down it can never be started again. Expecting surpluses but being satisfied with shortages. Taking fame if it comes and humbling myself with it. Not reaching out for honors which do not belong to me. Letting the honors go or stay. Keeping sacred counsel with my own soul. Letting the returns take care of themselves. Shedding the light. Not sneaking about the earth as if life had to be hid away or enjoyed in the dark. Not snarling at men as if they had to be barked into kennels. Not going among men with discounts. Going among men with premiums. Adding a little to everything I come near to or look at. A little more love. A little more justice. A little more loyalty. A little more resolution. I have no logic for my joy. But I have joy for it. Or for my affection for you. But I have you for it. Or for my devotion to the great cause. But I have the great cause for it. I can cite no justifications. But I can cite my comrades. I cite myself. I cite you. I cite the books I read. I cite the struggle against money. They are enough. They are sun enough for me. They explain enough. Love explains enough though it dont explain at all. The cause explains enough though it dont explain at all. And the abounding light: it too explains enough. The vast interstreaming dazzle of noontime: it explains nothing but it explains enough. I who question so much am silent. I who doubt so much accept. I who love so much do not ask for pay. Keep your face to the sun. A greater sun may shine in your face.
Keep your face to the sun. No matter what comes between keep your face to the sun. When your salary comes between. When the contempt of your enemies and the fear of your friends come between. When ruin comes between. No matter what may come between. Keep your face to the sun. You will be driven and warned. You will be despised and tempted. You will be misunderstood. You will be summoned into courts of public prejudice. You will be asked the questions of reaction and disease. But you will keep your face to the sun. Though the sun goes in behind a cloud will keep your face to the sun. Though the sun fails to get into your picture will keep your picture to the sun. When you take an office and the office is between. When you have ambitions that come between. When cowardice comes between. When praise comes between. When even the love of your dearest comrade comes between. You will keep your face to the sun. I do not promise you fruit without the seed of the fruit. You will plant. And much that you plant may come to nothing in the ground. Though it may come to much in your heart. You will pour out property. Give the last cent. Go stripped, utterly shorn, into the contest. But you will keep your face to the sun. Yes: you will despair. You will say you dont see why you should keep up the fight. You will want to sell your birthright. You will grudge men success. You will travel where no eye can chart the way. You will taste the bitterest defeat. You will be jealous and cruel. Your brute self will stand between you and the sun. Yet you will always stand with your face to the sun. I do not suppose anything malign comes to any man which may not just as well come to you. That no disappointment can come. That no tragedy can come. That you too may lose fortunes. May lose more than fortunes. May lose hope. May lose relation with the cosmos. That you too may be cut adrift from the crowd. May be crushed by the law. May have your trust violated. May be deceived. May read the promises of faith backward. May challenge justice. May go in for the abolition of brotherhood. May fool the prophets. Things do go wrong in life though life itself never goes wrong. Events do conspire against the plans of men. But they do not conspire against men. We have to take all into account. All the momentary repulses. We often ride a very roundabout course to victory. A course through disappointment. A course through direct losses. A course over bad roads. Encountering the devious motives of our companions. Do you keep your face to the sun? No matter which way you go you may keep your face to the sun. East or west or north or south or up or down or across it is all the same. You may keep your face to the sun. Your face shining with a light all its own. Your face baffling all rivalries of solar glory. You who ride to death may ride to life. You may turn your back to the sun. But the sun never turns its back to you. You may turn your back to the soul. The soul never turns its back to you. You may scorn the sentiment of man. You may make light of the romance of lovers. You may look with disdain upon the ignorant and the stupid. You may take care of yourself at the expense of others. You may postpone or destroy the impulse to give. Your life may be a life of seizure and appropriation. May ride shod rough over the crowd. May accept every advantage of position. Every advantage of culture. Not acquiescing in the general liberties. Flourishing your gifts like clubs. Demanding awe and worship. Quoting your money or your genius as evidence of your superiority. Standing aside when the people invite you to serve. Pulling back when the people try to go on. Being satisfied with your surplus when the people have too little to eat and too little to wear. This may be your burden. This may be your bloodred sin. This may be your rack. You may shrink from the sun. Your face may turn the other way. May prefer the darkness of possession to the light of atonement. Your eyes may be weak. May not be able to stand the sunbeams. May take no sun in and have no sun to give out. Your eyes may endure tyranny but not endure freedom. May endure seeing labor suffer but not endure seeing labor enfranchised. May endure their inheritance but not endure their vista. This is the tragedy of the pilgrim. He passes across the earth. The path is often dark and uncertain. Often he has to feel, because he cannot see, his way through. Then he is driven back upon his conclusions. What are his conclusions? Conclusions of triumph or conclusions of disaster? Conclusions for one or conclusions for all? Conclusions of property or conclusions of the soul? In the eclipse of reason all depends upon the conclusions. In the disappearance of all you have seen all depends upon the appearance of what you have not seen. What are your conclusions? When all resource gives out. When the road seems to end. When faculty and vision have lost the impulse of appeal. Then all depends upon the conclusion. The conclusion to abandon all gobetweens and trust yourself to the soul. The conclusion to refuse all preferments and trust yourself to the people. The conclusion to face the sun even if it blind you. The conclusion to meet sun with sun. The splendid sun sufficing for the love of the body with the sun more splendid sufficing for the love of the spirit.
Keep your face to the sun. I love you, O sun. But I too am a sun. Sometimes I think I light you: that you dont light me. That I each day rekindle your expiring fires. That if I did not come up in the morning you would not come up. That you do not appear at the horizon greeting the world. That I appear. That you do not cross the heavens glorifying your unrivalled passage and sanctifying your retrospect with the matchless twilight. That I cross the heavens. That all the majesty and the wonder inheres to me. That I do not depend upon you. That you depend upon me. That Persia did not worship you. That Persia worshipped me. That after all you are only the form while I am the substance. That you might be blotted out. That no harm would come to man. But that if I was blotted out the fate of man would be sealed in annihilation. That I have ejected you from the heavens and assumed your place. That you no longer rule, godstrong on a celestial throne. That I rule, man-potent in the hum of the common street. That the farms and the orchards do not look to you for fructification. That they look to me. That all harvests are my harvests. Harvests of fields as well as harvests of hearts. Harvests of justice as well as harvests of things. Harvests of ideals as well as harvests of deeds. That the supreme life is not there with you in the orbits of the heavens. That they are here with me in the twists and turns of alleys and pikes. I see now O sun that it is important to be a sun but that it is more important to be a man. That it is right to shine like a sun but that it is more than right to shine like a lover. That everything whatever seen or unseen is great and awes me. But that there is something neither seen nor unseen that stirs me to mightier results. That it is no mistake to make much of your genial flame: that you give life without question and cannot be denied your pay. That it is still less a mistake to make more of my precedent endowments: that they give ampler life without question and cannot be denied their pay. The pay of the sun is the pay of the crops. Is the pay of houses. Is the pay of dividends. Is the pay of profit and loss. The pay of my dreams is the pay of love. Is the pay of men and women and children. Is the pay of immortality. I too O sun get down on my knees to you. I too O sun stand erect honoring you. I too O sun gather with the crowds acknowledging your first causes. I too O sun let no rival shame my tribute. I too O sun call you God. And you, O sun, do you realizing yourself admit me? You too O sun: do you get down on your knees honoring me? Do you O sun gathering with the stars and the wheat and the factories acknowledge my first causes? Do you O sun bringing tribute do as much for me as any other and more? Do you O sun call me God? I have said of you O sun: you feed my body. Do you say of me O sun: you feed my soul? I have said to my darling comrades the lands and seas over gasping for life: Keep your face to the sun. I have said to them: No matter what happens, no matter for barbarism and murder, no matter for robbery and starvation, no matter for yawning perditions, keep your face to the sun. And I say to you O sun subtracting no atom from the sum of your illimitability: Keep your face to me. Comrades: Come: assemble yourselves about me. The first word shall be the last word and the last word the first word again: Keep your face to the sun.
POETRY
A MAGAZINE OF VERSE
Edited by Harriet Monroe, 543 Cass St., Chicago, Ill.
POETRY, at the end of its first year, is no longer an experiment but an assured artistic success, a publication whose importance is authoritatively recognized, not only in this country, but in Great Britain and France as well. The field it has opened up is full of brilliant possibilities, encouraging the editors to hope for the enthusiastic support of a discriminating public.