Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/233

Rh Through all these years my couch thou didst prepare. Thou art supreme Love kiss me I am thine !

As the blind Milton s memory of light, The deaf Beethoven s phantasy of tone, Wrought joys for them surpassing all things known In our restricted sphere of sound and sight, So while the glaring streets of brick and stone Vex with heat, noise, and dust from morn till night, I will give rein to Fancy, taking flight From dismal now and here, and dwell alone &quot;With new-enfranchised senses. All day long, Think ye t is I, who sit twixt darkened walls, While ye chase beauty over land and sea ? Uplift on wings of some rare poet s song, Where the wide billow laughs and leaps and falls, I soar cloud-high, free as the winds are free. Who grasps the substance? who mid shadows strays ? He who within some dark-bright wood reclines,