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H. D.
II
I loved you:
men have writ and women have said
they loved,
but as the Pythoness stands by the altar,
intense and may not move;
till the fumes pass over;
and may not falter nor break,
till the priest has caught the words
that mar or make a
deme or a ravaged town;
so I, though my knees tremble,
my heart break,
must note the rumbling,
heed only the shuddering
down in the fissure beneath the rock
of the temple floor;
must wait and watch
and may not turn nor move,
nor break from my trance to speak
so slight, so sweet,
so simple a word as love.
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