Xi

What spell or what charm, (For, awhile there was trouble within me) what next should I urge To sustain him where song had restored him?--Song filled to the verge His cup with the wine of this life, pressing all that it yields Of mere fruitage, the strength and the beauty; beyond, on what fields, Glean a vintage more potent and perfect to brighten the eye And bring blood to the lip, and commend them the cup they put by? He saith, "It is good"; still he drinks not; he lets me praise life, Gives assent, yet would die for his own part.