Tantalus

“O give me somewhat that hath all it!
     A cup that spills not and a sweet that palls not,
     A shield unwearying and a helm that galls not,
Paths winding never to some hidden pit,
Joy that is joy unplumed with wings to flit,
     A day whose sweet noon into darkness falls not,
     Life that from bliss the grim destroyer calls not,
Love without pangs, and hope the heavens present[?]”
     Power’s fruit melts cloud-like from the grasp of power
Health dies for gold; wealth mourns for bartered health,
     Power sells his scepter for one peaceful hour;
Mocking his misery slips all nature thus,
And tempting, still escapes the thirst of Tantalus!