YE happy floods! that now must pass The sacred conduits of her womb, Smooth and transparent as your face, When you are deaf, and winds are dumb Be proud! and if your waters be Foul'd with a counterfeited tear, Or some false sigh hath stained ye, Haste, and be purified there. And when her rosy gates y' have trac'd, Continue yet some orient wet, Till, turn'd into a gem, y' are plac'd Like diamonds with rubies set. Ye drops that dew th' Arabian bowers, Tell me, did you e'er smell or view On any leaf of all your flowers So sweet a scent, so rich a hue? But as through th' organs of her breath You trickle wantonly, beware: Ambitious seas in their just death As well as lovers must have share. And see! you boil, as well as I, You that to cool her did aspire Now troubled and neglected lie, Nor can yourselves quench your own fire. Yet still be happy in the thought That in so small a time as this, Through all the heavens you were brought Of Virtue, Honour, Love and Bliss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRIENDSHIP by RALPH WALDO EMERSON LONDON VOLUNTARIES: 3. SCHERZANDO by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY GOD'S ACRE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX [APRIL 9, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE ETHIOPIA SALUTING THE COLORS by WALT WHITMAN |