The lithesome maiden stood thrice-fair,
Her eyes like gems agleam!
"I pour the crimson wine of love
In empty cups of gold!"
—"Maiden, I am the nestless bird;
Flowery boughs bar not
My way. Bound for bright suns magnetic,
I sail through darkness blind.
Seer am I and worshipper
Of all that is and lives!
I am the harp of thousand strings
Of countless sounds!"
—"Thou blind!
Seest thou not within mine eyes
The magnetism and glory
Of all the suns?"