BEAUTY
I"HAD I two loaves of bread—ay, ay!One would I sell and hyacinths buyTo feed my soul."—"Or let me die!"Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth,Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth,Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.Rainbows and Hyacinths! O seers,Your voices call across the years:"The bread of Beauty's wet with tears!"IIThe living words from Beauty's mien,Than blade by swordsman swung more keen,Spirit and soul divide between:"Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame,Humble as glad, of holiest aim—Love's sevenfold beam a flashing flame!"IIIIt yearns me sore, so near, so far!My heart moans like the harbor-bar,For coming of the morning star.Buy Hyacinths—a goodly share!Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!
I"HAD I two loaves of bread—ay, ay!One would I sell and hyacinths buyTo feed my soul."—"Or let me die!"Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth,Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth,Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.Rainbows and Hyacinths! O seers,Your voices call across the years:"The bread of Beauty's wet with tears!"IIThe living words from Beauty's mien,Than blade by swordsman swung more keen,Spirit and soul divide between:"Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame,Humble as glad, of holiest aim—Love's sevenfold beam a flashing flame!"IIIIt yearns me sore, so near, so far!My heart moans like the harbor-bar,For coming of the morning star.Buy Hyacinths—a goodly share!Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!
I"HAD I two loaves of bread—ay, ay!One would I sell and hyacinths buyTo feed my soul."—"Or let me die!"
I
"HAD I two loaves of bread—ay, ay!
One would I sell and hyacinths buy
To feed my soul."—"Or let me die!"
Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth,Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth,Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.
Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth,
Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth,
Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.
Rainbows and Hyacinths! O seers,Your voices call across the years:"The bread of Beauty's wet with tears!"
Rainbows and Hyacinths! O seers,
Your voices call across the years:
"The bread of Beauty's wet with tears!"
IIThe living words from Beauty's mien,Than blade by swordsman swung more keen,Spirit and soul divide between:
II
The living words from Beauty's mien,
Than blade by swordsman swung more keen,
Spirit and soul divide between:
"Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame,Humble as glad, of holiest aim—Love's sevenfold beam a flashing flame!"
"Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame,
Humble as glad, of holiest aim—
Love's sevenfold beam a flashing flame!"
IIIIt yearns me sore, so near, so far!My heart moans like the harbor-bar,For coming of the morning star.
III
It yearns me sore, so near, so far!
My heart moans like the harbor-bar,
For coming of the morning star.
Buy Hyacinths—a goodly share!Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!
Buy Hyacinths—a goodly share!
Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,
The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!