Connected Poems
And wholly live within the bliss they gave,

When, on the dancing waters, the white sail

Grows big with kisses of the lustful wind,

Blushing at sunrise, and at midnight pale,

All for some lurking love that match’d their kind;

Then, anxiously, I sought that blissful bound;

That was long since e’er thou, my friend, wast found.

{47}

{47}

XLVII.

To some the world is but a ragged screen,

Hiding the essence of eternal fire;

They tear its tatters, and would peep between;

The unknown is lovely, and the rest is mire.

And other some glory in Nature’s robe,

Dare scorn ideal monsters of the mind,

Where man would test the heart with his nice probe,

Suit his sick taste, and leave the rest behind;

And some are drunken of they know not what,

And cull what sweets may hang from every hour,


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