Awake ye muses nine
by Emily Dickinson
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and
hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made
of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or
air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world
so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and
then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the
sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall
happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal
tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the
small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial
ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit
receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are
hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they
are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his
son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful
tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the
moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn
vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth
lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living
bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so
true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain
to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy
soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap'st what thou
hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of
song?
There's Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest
see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly
climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space,
or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a
bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or
flower --
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the
drum --
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
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