 | The In-Gathering |  |
132
HEBE.
I
Hebe, clad in robes of light,Pure as Heaven's own inner white,
Sailing through the summer air,
From the gods the goblet rare
Bears to man; a gift divine,
Full of consecrated wine.
II
Yet, with caution in her looks,The too-eager hand rebukes:
“Though the drink be holy, yet
Bounds on all desires are set;
Temperance, of all things divine,
Is divinest,—Spare the Wine!”
| The In-Gathering | |