Kill your Balm — and its Odors bless you —
Bare your Jessamine — to the storm —
And she will fling her maddest perfume —
Haply — your Summer night to Charm —
Stab the Bird — that built in your bosom —
Oh, could you catch her last Refrain —
Bubble! "forgive" — "Some better" — Bubble!
"...
Knock with tremor —
These are Caesars —
Should they be at Home
Flee as if you trod unthinking
On the Foot of Doom —
These receded to accostal
Centuries ago —
Should they rend you with "How are you"
What have you to show?
Knows how to forget!
But could It teach it?
Easiest of Arts, they say
When one learn how
Dull Hearts have died
In the Acquisition
Sacrificed for Science
Is common, though, now —
I went to School
But was not wiser
Globe did not teach it
...
She meets me there, so strangely fair
That my soul aches with a happy pain;—
A pressure, a touch of her true lips, such
As a seraph might give and take again;
A hurried whisper, "Adieu! adieu!
They wait for me while I stay for you!"
And a parting smile of her blue eyes...
The wail of France comes o'er the sea, --
She mourns for thee, departed chief;
And we, the children of the Free,
Re-echo back the notes of grief.
Thy course was like the morning sun,
That lights two worlds, the east and west;
...
Come hither my boy tell me what thou seest there
A fool tangled in a religious snare[3]
Lad of Athens faithful be to thyself and mystery—
All the rest is perjury—