Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/171

Rh He palmistry can understand,

Imbibing virtue by his hand

As if it were a living root;

The pulse of hands will make him mute;

With all his force he gathers balms

Into those wise, thrilling palms.

Cupid is a casuist,

A mystic, and a cabalist,—

Can your lurking thought surprise,

And interpret your device.

He is versed in occult science,

In magic, and in clairvoyance;

Oft he keeps his fine ear strained,

And Reason on her tiptoe pained

For aëry intelligence,

And for strange coincidence.

But it touches his quick heart

When Fate by omens takes his part,

And chance-dropped hints from Nature's sphere

Deeply soothe his anxious ear.