We read of kings and gods that kindly took A pitcher filled with water from the brook, But I have daily tendered without thanks Rivers of tears that overflow their banks; A slaughtered bull will appease angry Jove, A horse the Sun, a lamb the god of love, But she disdains the spotless sacrifice Of a pure heart that at her altar lies. Vesta is not displeased if her chaste urn Do with repaired fuel ever burn, But my saint frowns, though to her honoured name, I consecrate a never-dying flame. The Assyrian king did none i' the furnace throw But those that to his image did now bow, -- With bended knees I daily worship her, Yet she consumes her own idolater. Of such a goddess no times leave record, That burned the temple where she was adored. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER CHILD MARGARET by CARL SANDBURG RHYMES OF THE DAY by GEORGE SANTAYANA WHEN LOVE WAS BORN by SARA TEASDALE THE OLD MEN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |