by Patience Worth
To know thee. To know thee. To know thee!
To become comrade with thy day,
Then I should know the agony of the ages.
I should suffer hates hotter than hell's pit.
I should know loves more languorous
Than drunken lotus flowers steeped
In honey, at whose lips bees sup.
I should know the tongues, the cunning intonations
Of all things, that fretful wing
Of personality, which bears
The gist of utterance to its mart.
I should know well the sable-fringed East,
With the crescent moon upon its brow,
With sandal scent enshrouded. I should know
The West, hot flaming West, panting West,
Scarlet-robed in bloody sunlight.
I should know the South, the perfumed South,
The half-disclosed sweetness of her nights-
White nights, silver-shrouded, aye!
And I should know the North, the pallid North
With gaunt cheeks and glittering eyes, holding
The dead taper-the north star earthward.
I should know these, all of these to know thee;
The hots and cools of all blood-
To know thee...oh brother Man!
Last updated January 14, 2019