Give me of your cup to drink,
Love, and tell me all you think.
Let me taste your bitter-sweet;
Who are those that kiss your feet?
Love looked up—I read her eyes—
They were stars and they were skies.
Clinging to her garment’s hem,
Smiling as I looked at them,
There were children scarred and halt,
Children weeping for a fault;
Those who scarcely dared to raise
Doubtful eyes to smiling Praise.
Love looked round, and Praise and Pride
Brought their glad ones to her side.
“Yea, these too,” she said or sang,
And the world with music rang.