by Ralph Waldo Emerson

They brought me rubies from the mine, And held them to the sun; I said, they are drops of frozen wine From Eden's vats that run. I looked again,--I thought them hearts Of friends to friends unknown; Tides that should warm each neighboring life Are locked in sparkling stone. But fire to thaw that ruddy snow, To break enchanted ice, And give love's scarlet tides to flow,-- When shall that sun arise?