Explore "Taboo" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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!