The night is yours for revels;
day will light.
I will not fight you, bold and tigerish,
For I am weak, while you are
Peace! cease tormenting me
to have your wish.
But when you're filled and sated
with the Flesh,
I shall go swiftly to the silver stream,
To cleanse my body for the spirit's sake,
And sun my limbs, and close
my eyes to dream.
Written by Claude McKay (1891-1948)
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