Classic Poem

I

" Had I two loaves of bread — ay, ay!
One would I sell and hyacinths buy
To feed my soul. " — " Or let me die! "

Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth,
Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth,
Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.

Rainbows and Hyacinths! O seers,
Your voices call across the years:
" The bread of Beauty's wet with tears! "

II

The living words from Beauty's mien,
Than blade by swordsman swung more keen,
Spirit and soul divide between:

" Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame,
Humble as glad, of holiest aim —
Love's sevenfold beam a flashing flame! "

III

It yearns me sore, so near, so far!
My heart moans like the harbor-bar,
For coming of the morning star.

Buy Hyacinths — a goodly share!
Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,
The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!