Eastman, Max

English

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TO JOHN REED  Eastman, Max, 1883-1969  Jack, you are quiet now among the dead. The pulse of the young lion and the fire In that bright engine of extreme desire That never would be tired or quieted, That could fight, laugh, give, love, and sing, And understand so carelessly--so brave You Seemed to ride on life as on a wave-- It all is dead now, dead and mouldering.  They say you died for Communism--they Who to some absent god must always give The choicest even of the fruits of youth. You died for Life. Because you chose to live, Death found you in the torrent of the fray, Exulting in the future and the truth.  

To John Reed

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