This is Darrow, 
Inadequately scrawled, with his young, old heart, 
And his drawl, and his infinite paradox 
And his sadness, and kindness, 
And his artist sense that drives him to shape his life 
To something harmonious, even against the schemes of God. 

Added: Mar 18 2005 | Viewed: 619 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Edgar Lee Masters
Poem: Clarence Darrow
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