PASSION AND WORSHIP
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ne flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-playerEven where my lady and I lay all alone;Saying: 'Behold, this minstrel is unknown;Bid him depart, for I am minstrel here:Only my strains are to Love's dear ones, dear.'Then said I: 'Through thine hautboy's rapturous toneUnto my lady still this harp makes moan,And still she deems the cadence deep and clear.' Then said my lady: 'Thou art Passion of Love,And this Love's Worship: both he plights to me.Thy mastering music walks the sunlit sea:But where wan water trembles in the groveAnd the wan moon is all the light thereof,This harp still makes my name its voluntary.'
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