PRIEST 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. PILGRIM @3O priest! only my broken lute I bring For Love's praise-offering!@1 PRIEST 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. PILGRIM @3O priest! only my wounded heart I bring For Love's blood-offering!@1 PRIEST Lo! now it strikes Love'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. PILGRIM @3O priest! only my stricken soul I bring For Love's burnt-offering!@1 |