“We real cool. WeLeft school. WeLurk late. WeStrike straight. WeSing sin. WeThin gin. WeJazz June. WeDie soon.”

“Truth And if sun comes How shall we greet him?Shall we not dread him,Shall we not fear himAfter so lengthy aSession with shade?Though we have wept for him,Though we have prayedAll through the night-years—What if we wake one shimmering morning toHear the fierce hammeringOf his firm knucklesHard on the door?Shall we not shudder?—Shall we not fleeInto the shelter, the dear thick shelterOf the familiarPropitious haze?Sweet is it, sweet is itTo sleep in the coolnessOf snug unawareness.The dark hangs heavilyOver the eyes.”

“Surely–But I am very off from that.From surely. From indeed. From the decent arrowthat was my clean naivete and my faith.This morning, men deliver wounds and death.They will deliver death and wounds tomorrow.And I doubt all. You. Or a violet.”

“Say to them,say to the down-keepers,the sun-slappers,the self-soilers,the harmony-hushers,”Even if you are not ready for dayit cannot always be night.”You will be right.For that is the hard home-run.Live not for battles won.Live not for the-end-of-the-song.Live in the along.”

“We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.”

“Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies.And be it gash or gold it will not comeAgain in this identical disguise.”

“Live not for Battles Won.Live not for The-End-of-the-Song. Live in the along.”