 | Tiresias |  |
“While thus by strangeness lured, or beauty caught;
Where secrets opened to my will, or closed
For future pondering in some happy hour;
More purely blew the wind; a glory smote
These sightless balls as on that day of doom
When I beheld Her silent on the grass
And clad in light alone. But now Her voice
Pierced me with music, such as wildest love
Could never hope for utterance, tho' his fate
Hung in the balance of a blissful word.
35
For future pondering in some happy hour;
More purely blew the wind; a glory smote
These sightless balls as on that day of doom
When I beheld Her silent on the grass
And clad in light alone. But now Her voice
Pierced me with music, such as wildest love
Could never hope for utterance, tho' his fate
Hung in the balance of a blissful word.
| Tiresias | |