 | Wild honey from various thyme |  |
66
A TEMPLE
Yea, I had sought the temples; yea, I wentTo dress the altars; yea, but I must wander
Where he has walked the bowering blossoms under,
Where he has met the spring, where the young nuts
Were budding as he passed, are budding still;
Yea, I must feed upon the shade that cuts
The golden light out of the terraces,
Fringing the edges of the greensward hill;
Yea, I must haunt the valley, catch the scent
Of the young vines that ravished him, the briars
That brought strange Muses to him, with the grace
Of many a fresh-beloved, forsaken face—
Of Leda, lonesome, mazed in her desires
Beside the lonely stream, and of the hand
Clutching the seaweeds on the beach he trod
Whose ship was far away...O restless seas!
O tumult, incommunicable pain!
Lo, on my arm the basket-flowers are faded!
It is the gods who give me to this god,
Enforce this worship; nor of them upbraided
I rove, I leave behind the hot, white fane.
| Wild honey from various thyme | |