Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/95

 Not all its alps and valleys have destroyed Earth's spheric symmetry. From depth to height Spin the blind worlds, unerringly employed— Stars, comets, systems—from all time, to write One pure eternal circle on the void.

So is Love's genuine calm, by Passion's strife Kept rich and full, else falling soon away, Or (keeping semblance) sad in lack of life, As that cold impress fair the adulterous clay Took on the bounteous heart of Diomed's Wife.

Beneath the tents which sacred Love invests, Blush not, true man, the rosy wreath to take; Nor, while within thine arms the dear one rests, With overstooping kisses to awake The little Love asleep between her breasts.

The true philosopher is he whose eye Reads truly nature, God's appointed plan— He who obeys her rule instinctively, Or wittingly, or not, the genuine man. Wisdom is to obey her, knowing why!