AN ANEMONE.

By Madison Julius Cawein

“Teach me the wisdom of thy beauty, pray,

That, being thus wise, I may aspire to see

What beauty is, whence, why, and in what way

Immortal, yet how mortal utterly:

For, shrinking loveliness, thy brow of day

Pleads plaintive as a prayer, anemone.

“Teach me wood-wisdom, I am petulant:

Thou hast the wildness of a Dryad's eyes,

The shyness of an Oread's, wild plant:—

Behold the bashful goddess where she lies

Distinctly delicate!— inhabitant

Ambrosial-earthed, star-cousin of the skies.

“Teach me thy wisdom, for, thro’ knowing, yet,

When I have drunk dull Lethe till each vein

Thuds full oblivion, I shall not forget;—

For beauty known is beauty; to sustain

Glad memories with life, while mad regret

And sorrow perish, being Lethe slain.”

“Teach thee my beauty being beautiful

And beauty wise?— My slight perfections, whole

As world, as man, in their creation full

As old a Power's cogitation roll.

Teach thee?— Presumption! thought is young and dull —

Question thy God what God is, soul what soul.”