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I HAVE sought and followed you, drunk with your sacred wine; Led out by a laughing wind on a tumbling sea, On crags amid clouds, in cups that allure the bee, And deep in the gem-lit gloom of the tortuous mine, And on widespread wings where the great worlds dance and shine I have sought by the golden light; but have bent the knee At last where you lie, a humble goddess and free, Naked and flushed in the warmth of a crimson shrine.
The hordes of hate have trampled your blooms in mire, |