Comes the unseen breath in power 5
Like a great wind from the sea,
And we bow before his coming,
Though we know not why.
X
Let there be garlands, Dica,
Around thy lovely hair.
And supple sprays of blossom
Twined by thy soft hands.
Whoso is crowned with flowers 5
Has favour with the gods,
Who have no kindly eyes
For the ungarlanded.
XI
When the Cretan maidens
Dancing up the full moon
Round some fair new altar,
Trample the soft blossoms of fine grass,
There is mirth among them. 5
Aphrodite’s children
Ask her benediction
On their bridals in the summer night.
XII
In a dream I spoke with the Cyprus-born,
And said to her,
“Mother of beauty, mother of joy,
Why hast thou given to men
“This thing called love, like the ache of a wound 5
In beauty’s side,
To burn and throb and be quelled for an hour
And never wholly depart?”