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1876–1944

TABOO

Helen Hay Whitney

Now am I sacred, for that holy thing, Your touch, has made me as a god; to-day I am magnificent, I am a king To whom my fellow men must cringe and pray.

Such is taboo; but when to-morrow comes I may look once upon the sun and you; Then, thro’ the dawn, with wailing and sad drums I pay the utter price.— Such is taboo!

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TABOO · Helen Hay Whitney · Poetry Cove