Bribe, The Poem by Ina D. Coolbrith

‘ All These I Will Give Thee’

World plaudits!
Glamour of the tinsel crowd
In adulation! Fame, the meator Fame,
And Youth, still golden Youth!
The price-a Soul.

Failure! -if it be failure still to hold
The Dream unbroken!
Bent, paupered, old-
The great World turned aside,
Ever unhearing, from that Voice divine.
But still, else lost, the Voice divine his own,
No accent missing,
Still each cord supreme!
Failure! -if it be failure-his to be,
The Soul’s immortal Youth upon his brow,
One with endless rapture of all Sound,
Song of all Song,
The music of the spheres-
God’s Hand upon the Keys!