Hymn of Divination from me to thee
Hail, fair Aphrodite, foam-born, star of the sea-ways,
Mist-veiled sovereign, mover of mortal bosoms,
Bearer of sighs and bloom of the secret garden—
Hear now my praising.
Thou who mak’st kings bow low and shepherds mighty,
Thou whose glance sets the coldest spirit burning,
Soft is thy yoke, yet none may flee thy binding—
Sweet is thy governance.
Dost thou recall our hours in hush and amber,
When breath met breath and time itself stood hearkening?
Say, if thou wilt, in dream or sign or whisper—
I yet remember.
Take thou this vow, by rose and hidden ember:
No tongue shall loose the tale we twain have carried;
Close kept, sealed fast, our chronicle unspoken—
Veiled be our history.
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