We shall not always plant while others reap <br />The golden increment of bursting fruit, <br />Not always countenance, abject and mute, <br />That lesser men should hold their brothers cheap; <br />Not everlastingly while others sleep <br />Shall we beguile their limbs with mellow flute, <br />Not always bend to some more subtle brute; <br />We were not made to eternally weep. <br />The night whose sable breast relieves the stark, <br />White stars is no less lovely being dark, <br />And there are buds that cannot bloom at all <br />In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall; <br />So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, <br />And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.<br /><br />Countee Cullen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-dark-tower/
