He bowed his head. It was their hour of prayer;
And, from among the Muses in the dark,
A woman’s voice, a voice in ecstasy,
As if a wound should bless the sword that made it,
Breathed through the night the music of their law:
Close not thine eyes in sleep
Till thou hast searched thy memories of the day,
Graved in thy heart the vow thou didst not keep,
And called each wandering thought back to the way.
Pray to the gods! Their aid,