The Lethe of Nature Can't trance him again, Whose soul sees the Perfect, Which his eyes seek in vain. Pride ruined the angels, Their shame them restores, And the joy that is sweetest Lurks in stings of remorse. Eterne alternation Now follows, now flies, And under pain, pleasure, Under pleasure, pain lies. Thy sight is growing blear, Rue, myrrh, and cummin for the Sphynx, Her muddy eyes to clear. Of thine eye I am eyebeam.
Time is the false reply.
Uprose the merry Sphynx, And crouched no more in stone, She melted into purple cloud, She silvered in the moon, She spired into a yellow flame, She flowered in blossoms red, She flowed into a foaming wave, She stood Monadnoc's head. Early Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Introduction by Nathan Haskell Dole. All rights reserved. Contact us for reprint permission.