Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/22

10 Infirm, melancholy,

Jealous glancing around,

An oaf, an accomplice,

He poisons the ground.

"Outspoke the great mother,

Beholding his fear;—

At the sound of her accents

Cold shuddered the sphere:—

'Who has drugged my boy's cup?

Who has mixed my boy's bread?

Who, with sadness and madness,

Has turned the man-child's head?'"

I heard a poet answer,

Aloud and cheerfully,

"Say on, sweet Sphinx! thy dirges

Are pleasant songs to me.

Deep love lieth under

These pictures of time;

They fade in the light of

Their meaning sublime.