The god within thee but betrays himself
In every graceful motion. Thou dost pant
To learn the mysteries of thy new found worship.
The secret torrent rushing through thy veins
Makes eloquent music to thy listening heart,
Which beats unconsciously the measure out.
I know thy malady—so come with me:
I’ll cure thee with indulgence.
The maiden bent her white and stately neck,
And sounds of joy flew from her parted lips,