Edna St. Vincent Millay





Sonnet 66

Sonnet to Gath   
Country of hunchbacks! — where the strong, straight spine, Jeered at by crooked children, makes his way Through by-streets at the kindest hour of the day, Till he deplore his stature, and incline To measure manhood with a gibbous line; Till out of loneliness, being flawed with clay, He stoop into his neighbor's house and say, "Your roof is low for me — the fault is mine." Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo; and the happier he; Since who amongst you all would lift a head At a god's radiance on the mean door-tree, Saving to run and hide your dates and bread, And cluck your children in about your knee?