BLOODROOT. 



I brand with shame thy peerless brow, 

 Whose golden coronet is riven, 

 And cast to all the winds of heaven 



Thy drifts of many-petaled snow ! 



Yet, ere the reckless deed appears, 



Thy truth compels my heart s disguise. 

 Thy beauty pains my mortal eyes, 



Thy pulse-beats hammer in my ears. 



I seem myself the panting earth, 

 The Spring within me newly born ; 

 I feel thee from my breast uptorn, 



I grapple with a larger birth. 



My narrow senses downward hurled, 

 In upper air I blindly grope 

 I strive to reach a living hope, 



And blossom in the spirit world ! 



Go, struggles deep, and visions wild, 

 From heart and brain I set you free ; 

 Thro human need I still must see 



And grasp the human undefiled. 



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