Nike
By Bliss Carman
What do men give thanks for?
I give thanks for one,
Lovelier than morning,
Dearer than the sun.
Such a head the victors
Must have praised and known,
With that breast and bearing,
Nike’s very own—
As superb, untrammeled,
Rhythmed and poised and free
As the strong pure sea-wind
Walking on the sea;
Such a hand as Beauty
Uses with full heart,
Seeking for her freedom
In new shapes of art;
Soft as rain in April,
Quiet as the days
Of the purple asters
And the autumn haze;
With a soul more subtle
Than the light of stars,
Frailer than a moth’s wing
To the touch that mars;
Wise with all the silence
Of the waiting hills,
When the gracious twilight
Wakes in them and thrills;
With a voice more tender
Than the early moon
Hears among the thrushes
In the woods of June;
Delicate as grasses
When they lift and stir —
One sweet lyric woman—
I give thanks for her.