East and west : the discovery of America and other poems

Shall love my angel be? Or shall the flame
Of wan ambition singe her tender wings?
Why do I scoff at life to say deep things,
And crush my heart to yield a bloodless name?
If thou wert dead, O God! what bitter blame
To yean these thoughts self-barbed with cruel stings!
O let me nest near some warm soul that sings;
Not starve beneath a lone pale shaft of fame!
Yea, were I regent of the potent lore
That lamps chaste sages' swoon, or crowned to see
The white-hot diamond secret at the core
Of winnowed wealth of worlds that yearn to be;—
Then would I scorn these tempters o'er and o'er,
And clasp my perfect truth in only thee.

University of Virginia Library

SONNET. MY PERFECT TRUTH.