| |
| I SAW the twinkle of white feet, | |
| I saw the flash of robes descending; | |
| Before her ran an influence fleet, | |
| That bowed my heart like barely bending. | |
| |
| As, in bare fields, the searching bees | 5 |
| Pilot to blooms beyond our finding, | |
| It led me on, by sweet degrees | |
| Joy’s simple honey-cells unbinding. | |
| |
| Those Graces were that seemed grim Fates; | |
| With nearer love the sky leaned o’er me; | 10 |
| The long-sought Secret’s golden gates | |
| On musical hinges swung before me. | |
| |
| I saw the brimmed bowl in her grasp | |
| Thrilling with godhood; like a lover | |
| I sprang the proffered life to clasp;— | 15 |
| The beaker fell; the luck was over. | |
| |
| The earth has drunk the vintage up; | |
| What boots it patch the goblet ’s splinters? | |
| Can Summer fill the icy cup, | |
| Whose treacherous crystal is but winter’s? | 20 |
| |
| O spendthrift haste! await the Gods; | |
| The nectar crowns the lips of Patience; | |
| Haste scatters on unthankful sods | |
| The immortal gift in vain libations. | |
| |
| Coy Hebe flies from those that woo, | 25 |
| And shuns the hands would seize upon her; | |
| Follow thy life, and she will sue | |
| To pour for thee the cup of honor. | |
| |
