Assimilation XXIII

New Sword from Maker's Hand, in Edge and Point all bright;

See that in dirty Scabbard, it rust not, out of Sight!

Gold that in Miser's Coffer, in Blackness meanly lay,

Upon the Shah's Throne gleaming, becomes a World's Delight.

When full Clouds pour the Rain-drops, lo! every glad Tree drinks;

Fruits redden on the Apple tree, as Leaves grow pale in Fright.

This Stalk an empty Pipe still, in that sweet Sugar swells;

Yet both did sip the same Tank, at Morning, Noon, and Night.

One Deer distils perfumed Musk, another bitterest Gall,

Yet grazed together, side by side, upon the self-same Height.

Two creeping Worms together fed upon the same green Leaf;

One spins mere useless Theadlets, the other Silk aright.

The Bee's Lip, and the Snake's sucked from the self-same Flower;

The one made Honey's Sweetness, the other Poison's Bite.

One dines, and all his Nutriment transmutes to Life divine;

Another's Food is souring to Hatred and to Spite.

One's Eyes drink Light till blinded; the other stores it up,

And glows in rosy Brightness, Love-robed in red and white.

Be pure in all thy Members, and from Nature's golden Tree

Pluck God's own Blessing daily, and grow in Manhood's Might.