Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/126

90 Wilt not give the lips to taste

Of the nectar which thou hast.

All that 's good and great with thee

Works in close conspiracy;

Thou hast bribed the dark and lonely

To report thy features only,

And the cold and purple morning

Itself with thoughts of thee adorning;

The leafy dell, the city mart,

Equal trophies of thine art;

E'en the flowing azure air

Thou hast touched for my despair;

And, if I languish into dreams,

Again I meet the ardent beams.

Queen of things! I dare not die

In Being's deeps past ear and eye;

Lest there I find the same deceiver

And be the sport of Fate forever.

Dread Power, but dear! if God thou be,

Unmake me quite, or give thyself to me!

GIVE ALL TO LOVE

all to love;

Obey thy heart;

Friends, kindred, days,