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            <title>"I Know My Soul", from <ref target="http://harlemshadows.org">Harlem Shadows: A Digital Edition</ref>
            </title>
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         <publicationStmt>
            <publisher>This file is produced from the material at <ref target="http://harlemshadows.org">Harlem Shadows: A Digital Edition</ref>
            </publisher>
            <date>December 6, 2015</date>
            <availability>
               <licence target="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommerical 4.0 International</licence>
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               <note>This file is generated from a master file containing the text of Claude McKay's 1922 collection of poems <title level="m">Harlem Shadows</title> and related documents (other appearances of McKay's poems, reviews, and related material). The base text for this file is drawn from the item listed below.</note>
               <author>Claude McKay</author>
               <title level="a">I Know My Soul</title>
               <title level="m">Harlem Shadows</title>
               <pubPlace>New York</pubPlace>
               <publisher>Harcourt, Brace, and Company</publisher>
               <date when="1922">1922</date>
               <biblScope unit="pg">46</biblScope>
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         <lg type="poem" xml:id="i-know-my-soul">
	    
	           <head>I Know My Soul</head>

	           <l>I plucked my soul out of its secret place,</l>
	           <l>And held it to the mirror of my eye,</l>
	           <l>To see it like a star against the sky,</l>
	           <l>A twitching body quivering in space,</l>
	           <l>A spark of passion shining on my face.</l>
	           <l>And I explored it to determine why</l>
	           <l>This awful key to my infinity</l>
	           <l>Conspires to rob me of sweet joy and grace.</l>
	           <l>And if the sign may not be fully read,</l>
	           <l>If I can comprehend but not control,</l>
	           <l>I need not gloom my days with futile dread,</l>
	           <l>Because I see a part and not the whole.</l>
	           <l>Contemplating the strange, I'm comforted</l>
	           <l>By this narcotic thought: I know my soul.</l>
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