Poems (Cromwell)/To the Crowd
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TO THE CROWD
When I hold a budding pleasure
In my heart, can I diffuse it?
No; you want the musk full-measure,
Not the bud,—so you refuse it.
In my heart, can I diffuse it?
No; you want the musk full-measure,
Not the bud,—so you refuse it.
When I hold an ebbing sorrow,
Can I share the balm with you?
No; you want no lessening morrow,
But meridian's deepest hue.
Can I share the balm with you?
No; you want no lessening morrow,
But meridian's deepest hue.
Blossom of my joy completest,
Zenith of my sorrow's hour,
Yours. So I may keep the sweetest:
Buds and lees—ambrosial power.
Zenith of my sorrow's hour,
Yours. So I may keep the sweetest:
Buds and lees—ambrosial power.