That woman’s love brings man. I hold above
Your outstretched hand the chalice; ere you prove
Its potency, bethink you; it has power
To test your soul. If in a sinful hour
You touch it, you shall sink as those who strove
Of old to win my heart. Lo! there they be,
Not men but beasts; for with impure desire
They sought me, and Love holds that blasphemy;
And for their sin doth bid them dwell in mire
Nor know their shame. Had they been pure in thought,