A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass. Lowell Amy

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LYRICAL POEMS

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Before the Altar

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      Before the Altar, bowed, he stands

       With empty hands;

       Upon it perfumed offerings burn

       Wreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.

       Not one of all these has he given,

       No flame of his has leapt to Heaven

       Firesouled, vermilion-hearted,

       Forked, and darted,

       Consuming what a few spare pence

       Have cheaply bought, to fling from hence

       In idly-asked petition.

       His sole condition

       Love and poverty.

       And while the moon

       Swings slow across the sky,

       Athwart a waving pine tree,

       And soon

       Tips all the needles there

       With silver sparkles, bitterly

       He gazes, while his soul

       Grows hard with thinking of the poorness of his dole.

       "Shining and distant Goddess, hear my prayer

       Where you swim in the high air!

       With charity look down on me,

       Under this tree,

       Tending the gifts I have not brought,

       The rare and goodly things

       I have not sought.

       Instead, take from me all my life!

       "Upon the wings

       Of shimmering moonbeams

       I pack my poet's dreams

       For you.

       My wearying strife,

       My courage, my loss,

       Into the night I toss

       For you.

       Golden Divinity,

       Deign to look down on me

       Who so unworthily

       Offers to you:

       All life has known,

       Seeds withered unsown,

       Hopes turning quick to fears,

       Laughter which dies in tears.

       The shredded remnant of a man

       Is all the span

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