Poems (Robert Underwood Johnson)/Quality
QUALITYI
Take, ere the bee hath sipped,
The courtly, maiden-lipped,
And dewy oleander,
And breathe, and dream, and wander.
But ah! take not another,
Lest fragrance fragrance smother.
The courtly, maiden-lipped,
And dewy oleander,
And breathe, and dream, and wander.
But ah! take not another,
Lest fragrance fragrance smother.
II
What all your wreathéd wine
To what I taste of mine?
See the spilled jewels run,
Red as an autumn sun!—
Each holding warm and clear
The vintage of a year.
To what I taste of mine?
See the spilled jewels run,
Red as an autumn sun!—
Each holding warm and clear
The vintage of a year.
III
Stranger, thy passing word
My waiting heart hath stirred;
My life to thee I lend!
This hour thou art my friend,
And could not dearer be
Loved an eternity.
My waiting heart hath stirred;
My life to thee I lend!
This hour thou art my friend,
And could not dearer be
Loved an eternity.