The Temple
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etween us leapt a gold and scarlet flame.Into the hollow of the cupped, arched blueOf Heaven it rose. Its flickering tongues up-drewAnd vanished in the sunshine. How it cameWe guessed not, nor what thing could be its name.From each to each had sprung those sparks which flewTogether into fire. But we knewThe winds would slap and quench it in their game.And so we graved and fashioned marble blocksTo treasure it, and placed them round about.With pillared porticos we wreathed the whole,And roofed it with bright bronze. Behind carved locksFlowered the tall and sheltered flame. Without,The baffled winds thrust at a column's bole. Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
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