I plucked my soul out of its secret place, And held it to the mirror of my eye, To see it like a star against the sky, A twitching body quivering in space, A spark of passion shining on my face. And I explored it to determine why This awful key to my infinity Conspires to rob me of sweet joy and grace. And if the sign may not be fully read, If I can comprehend but not control, I need not gloom my days with futile dread, Because I see a part and not the whole. Contemplating the strange, I’m comforted By this narcotic thought: I know my soul. The author of this poem is Claude McKay (1891-1948). He was born in Jamaica. He was involved in the literary life in New York during the 1920's.He was associate editor for the "Liberator", a black Newspaper in Harlem. He is a worldwide acclaimed prose writer. Also, Mr. McKay has a book of selected poems that continuous to strengthen the Unbroken Chain of black poetry.
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