Cannot but touch me, at least I shall feel
The embrace of his foot; and his sandall’d sole
Shall kiss my dust and make me whole.
“Then let the heart that he has press’d,
The ashen lips by him caressed
Sink low in the lowly dust of the road
Lest another tread where late he trod.
“Mother of Eros, hear thy slave!
“Child of the foam, great goddess of love,
Aphrodite, look down from above!