Robert Francis

“I follow Plato only with my mind
Pure beauty strikes me as a little thin
A little cold, however beautiful.

I am in love with what is mixed and impure
Doubtful, dark and hard to disencumber
I want beauty I must dig for, search for.

Pure beauty is beginning and not end
Begin with the sun and drop from sun to cloud
From cloud to tree, and from tree to earth itself

And deeper yet to the earth dark root.
I am in love with what resists my loving
With what I have to labor to make live.”
― Robert Francis

“The American eagle is not aware he is
the American eagle. He is never tempted
to look modest.

When orators advertise the American eagle's
virtues, the American eagle is not listening.
This is his virtue.

He is somewhere else, he is mountains away
but even if he were near he would never
make an audience.

The American eagle never says he will serve
if drafted, will dutifully serve etc. He is
not at our service.

If we have honored him we have honored one
who unequivocally honors himself by
overlooking us.

He does not know the meaning of magnificent.
Perhaps we do not altogether either
who cannot touch him.”
― Robert Francis, Robert Francis: Collected Poems, 1936-1976