I
ID not choose thee, dearest.
It was
That made the choice, not I.
Mine eyes were
As a rude shepherd's who to some lone
His offering brings and cares not at what
He bends his knee.
The gifts alone were mine;
The rest was Love's.
He took me by the hand,
And fired the sacrifice, and poured the wine,
And spoke the words I might not understand. I was unwise in all but the dear
Which was my fortune, and the blind
Which led my foolish steps to Love's abode,
And youth's sublime unreason'd
Which raised an altar and inscribed in
Its dedication To the Unknown God.
