V
Maiden. Believe me, mystic maiden o' mine,
That title shall assure the throne of heaven
To you—the more so that your love divine
That maidenhood to me hath freely given?
Nor have I touched the ark with hands unholy,
Nor with unsaintly kisses soiled the shrine:
Nepenthe, amaranth, vervain, myrrh and moly
Are deathless blooms about our chaste design.
Not you resisting, but myself refraining,
Gives us the eternal spring, the elixir rare,
That mage and sage have sought, and uncomplaining
Never attained. We found it early where
The Gods find children. Maiden o' mine, be sure
My wine shall be as pure as you are pure!
That title shall assure the throne of heaven
To you—the more so that your love divine
That maidenhood to me hath freely given?
Nor have I touched the ark with hands unholy,
Nor with unsaintly kisses soiled the shrine:
Nepenthe, amaranth, vervain, myrrh and moly
Are deathless blooms about our chaste design.
Not you resisting, but myself refraining,
Gives us the eternal spring, the elixir rare,
That mage and sage have sought, and uncomplaining
Never attained. We found it early where
The Gods find children. Maiden o' mine, be sure
My wine shall be as pure as you are pure!
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