Tale of Archais

THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 17 But I am born of gods, and turn My eyes to thee, thyself divine. My vigorous heart and spirit yearn With love, my cheeks with passion burn— As thy clear eyes may well discern By gazing into mine. Thy heart is cool, thy cheeks are pale, Nor blush with shame like winter wine To understand my amorous tale, For words and looks of Love must fail To touch thee, since a snowy veil Is ‘twixt my mind and thine. Dear goddess, at whose early breast I drank in all desires and woes ; Most reverend god, who oft caressed Her pale chaste wifehood, and who pressed Upon my forehead kisses blest ; Bid blossom out this rose, This fair white bud whose heart is pure, Whose bosom fears not, neither knows The long vague mysteries that endure Of life uncertain, of love sure, Teach her the mystic overture To Love’s transcendant throes.