University of Virginia Library

NO!

If the dew have fed the flower,
Shall she therefore, from that hour,
Live on nothing else but dew?
Ask no more, from dawn of day—
Never heed the sunny ray,
Though it come, a glittering fay,
To her bower?
Though upon her soul it play,
Must she coldly turn away,
And refuse the life it brings,
Burning in its golden wings—
Meekly lingering in the night,
To herself untrue?
Though the humming-bird have stole,
Floating on his plumes of glory,
Softly to her glowing soul,
Telling his impassion'd story—
If the soaring lark she capture,
In diviner love and rapture,
Pouring music wild and clear,
Round her till she thrills to hear—
Shall she shut her spirit's ear?
Shall the lesson wasted be
Of that heavenly harmony?
No! by all the inner bloom,
That the sunbeam may illume,
But that else the stealing chill
Of the early dawn might kill:
No! by all the leaves of beauty,
Leaves that, in their vestal duty,
Guard the shrined and rosy light
Hidden in her “heart of heart,”
Till that music bids them part:
No! by all the perfume rare,
Delicate as a fairy's sigh,
Shut within and wasting there,
That would else enchant the air—
Incense that must soar or die!
That divine, pure soul of flowers,
Captive held, that pines to fly,
Asking for unfading bowers,
Learning from the bird and ray
All the lore they bring away
From the skies in love and play,
Where they linger every morn,
Till to this sad world of ours
Day in golden pomp is borne—
By that soul, which else might glow
An immortal flower: No!