Whom We Worship

I WOULD not have the love of lips and eyes,
The ancient ways of love:
But in my heart I built a Paradise,
A nest there for the dove.

I felt the wings of light that fluttered through
The gate I held apart:
And all without was shadow, but I knew
The bird within my heart.

Then, while the innermost with music beat,
The voice I loved so long
Seemed only the dream echo faint and sweet
Of a far sweeter song.

I could not even bear the thought I felt
Of Thee and Me therein;
And with white heat I strove the veil to melt
That love to love might win.

But ah, my dreams within their fountain fell;
Not to be lost in thee,
But with the high ancestral love to dwell
In its lone ecstasy.

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Whom We Worship