Into the golden vessel of great song br Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast br Let other lovers lie, in love and rest; br Not we,—articulate, so, but with the tongue br Of all the world: the churning blood, the long br Shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed br Sharply together upon the escaping guest, br The common soul, unguarded, and grown strong. br Longing alone is singer to the lute; br Let still on nettles in the open sigh br The minstrel, that in slumber is as mute br As any man, and love be far and high, br That else forsakes the topmost branch, a fruit br Found on the ground by every passer-by.br br Edna St.