The Temple

P RIEST

Awake, it is Love's radiant hour of praise!
Bring new-blown leaves his temple to adorn,
Pomegranate-buds and ripe sirisha -sprays,
Wet sheaves of shining corn.

P ILGRIM

O priest! only my broken lute I bring
For Love's praise-offering!

P RIEST

Behold! the hour of sacrifice draws near.
Pile high the gleaming altar-stones of Love
With delicate burdens of slain woodland deer
And frail white mountain dove.

P ILGRIM

O priest! only my wounded heart I bring
For Love's blood-offering!

P RIEST

Lo! now it strikes Lover's solemn hour of prayer,
Kindle with fragrant boughs his blazing shrine,
Feed the sweet flame with spice and incense rare,
Curds of rose-pastured kine.

P ILGRIM

O priest! only my stricken soul I bring
For Love's burnt-offering!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.