When all life narrows to a single point,
And when the poor heart seizes its desire.
Only to wake to deeper restlessness.
But after all, what matter? would it be
Harder to wake years hence to sense of thirst
Than to stand thirsty now? for sunny wine
Sparkles before us, and a precious pearl,
Eager to lose its life upon our lips,
Waits but our instant grasping to dissolve
Its costly beauty in the nectar.