 | [Poems by Larcom in] The ladies' wreath and Parlor Annual |  |
[I. “I shall be satisfied!” The chaffy taste]
“I shall be satisfied!” The chaffy tasteOf Dead Sea apples me hath sickened long.
Sweet drops from Siloa's fountain on my tongue
Have turned to bitter; for, in feverish haste
I've drained the Circean bowl beside it placed;
To that mixed draught no healing could belong.
Seeking my soul's ideal, all the throng
Of showy phantoms I have wildly chased,
To find them pallid ghosts beneath their paint.
From earthy shallows gladly now I glide
To shores where Truth and Beauty know no taint;
Where dross shall be exchanged for silver tried;
Where substance shall replace these shadows faint,
And this in-burning thirst be satisfied.
| [Poems by Larcom in] The ladies' wreath and Parlor Annual | |