Louis Untermeyer is an obscure poet who has etched himself in my heart, primarily due to the poem which I will attach, “Prayer.”  The poem itself reveals so much about the man and the inner torments which led him into the literary world.  But these “torments,” whatever they were, wreaked havoc often in his life.  He was married three or four times and one of his sons committed suicide at age 19.  Furthermore, he was a panelist on the popular TV show in 1950, “What’s My Line” but ruffled feathers so that he was forced out leading to a year-long depression and social isolation.  I think the description “irascible and cantankerous” would describe him. He knew the W. H. Auden wisdom, “We wage the war we are.”

Poetry arises from a tumult in the soul and without men and women who have had the courage to wrestle with this tumult humankind would be at a loss.  Poetry brings to the table depths of the heart that the simple prosaity of day-to-day life cannot offer.

Prayer
God, though this life is but a wraith,
Although we know not what we use,
Although we grope with little faith,
Give me the heart to fight – and lose.
Ever insurgent let me be,
Make me more daring than devout;
From sleek contentment keep me free,
And fill me with a buoyant doubt.
Open my eyes to vision girt
With beauty, and with with wonder lit –
But let me always see the dirt,
And all that spawn and die in it.
Open my ears to music; let
Me thrill with Spring’s first flutes and drums –
But never let me dare forget
The bitter ballads of the slums.
From compromise and things half-done,
Keep me, with stern and stubborn pride;
And when, at last, the fight is won,
God, keep me still unsatisfied.
– Louis Untermeyer