BACCHUS
by: Ralph Waldo Emerson
(1803-1882)
- RING me
wine, but wine which never grew
- In the belly of the grape,
- Or grew on vine whose tap-roots, reaching through
- Under the Andes to the Cape,
- Suffer'd no savour of the earth to 'scape.
-
- Let its grapes the morn salute
- From a nocturnal root,
- Which feels the acrid juice
- Of Styx and Erebus;
- And turns the woe of Night,
- By its own craft, to a more rich delight.
-
- We buy ashes for bread;
- We buy diluted wine;
- Give me of the true,
- Whose ample leaves and tendrils curl'd
- Among the silver hills of heaven
- Draw everlasting dew;
- Wine of wine,
- Blood of the world,
- Form of forms, and mould of statures,
- That I intoxicated,
- And by the draught assimilated,
- May float at pleasure through all natures;
- The bird-language rightly spell,
- And that which roses say so well:
-
- Wine that is shed
- Like the torrents of the sun
- Up the horizon walls,
- Or like the Atlantic streams, which run
- When the South Sea calls.
-
- Water and bread,
- Food which needs no transmuting,
- Rainbow-flowering, wisdom-fruiting,
- Wine which is already man,
- Food which teach and reason can.
-
- Wine which Music is,--
- Music and wine are one,--
- That I, drinking this,
- Shall hear far Chaos talk with me;
- Kings unborn shall walk with me;
- And the poor grass shall plot and plan
- What it will do when it is man.
- Quicken'd so, will I unlock
- Every crypt of every rock.
- I thank the joyful juice
- For all I know;
- Winds of remembering
- Of the ancient being blow,
- And seeming-solid walls of use
- Open and flow.
-
- Pour, Bacchus! the remembering wine;
- Retrieve the loss of me and mine!
- Vine for vine be antidote,
- And the grape requite the lote!
- Haste to cure the old despair;
- Reason in Nature's lotus drench'd--
- The memory of ages quench'd--
- Give them again to shine;
- Let wine repair what this undid;
- And where the infection slid,
- A dazzling memory revive;
- Refresh the faded tints,
- Recut the agèd prints,
- And write my old adventures with the pen
- Which on the first day drew,
- Upon the tablets blue,
- The dancing Pleiads and eternal men.
"Bacchus" is reprinted
from Early Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson.
New York: Thomas Y. Crowell & Company, 1899. |
MORE POEMS BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON |
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