Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/194

182 In to the upper doors,

Nor count compartments of the floors,

But mount to paradise

By the stairway of surprise.

Blameless master of the games,

King of sport that never shames,

He shall daily joy dispense

Hid in song's sweet influence.

Things more cheerly live and go,

What time the subtle mind

Sings aloud the tune whereto

Their pulses beat,

And march their feet,

And their members are combined.

By Sybarites beguiled,

He shall no task decline;

Merlin's mighty line

Extremes of nature reconciled,—

Bereaved a tyrant of his will,

And made the lion mild.