Above the ruin of God's holy place, <br />Where man-forsaken lay the bleeding rood, <br />Whose hands, when men had craved substantial food, <br />Gave not, nor folded when they cried, Embrace, <br />I saw exalted in the latter days <br />Her whom west winds with natal foam bedewed, <br />Wafted toward Cyprus, lily-breasted, nude, <br />Standing with arms out-stretched and flower-like face. <br />And, sick with all those centuries of tears <br />Shed in the penance for factitious woe, <br />Once more I saw the nations at her feet, <br />For Love shone in their eyes, and in their ears <br />Come unto me, Love beckoned them, for lo! <br />The breast your lips abjured is still as sweet.<br /><br />Alan Seeger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xv-4/
