Poems (Taylor)/"Whom the Gods Love—Die Young"
"WHOM THE GODS LOVE—DIE YOUNG"
I.
How wild were they, at break of day,
Fulfilled of dream and dew
The daisies young they pluckt and strung
Across their robes of blue;
The glad white feet, through dances sweet
A silver glory grew.
Fulfilled of dream and dew
The daisies young they pluckt and strung
Across their robes of blue;
The glad white feet, through dances sweet
A silver glory grew.
II.
How soft they sighed ere eventide,
Fulfilled of Eros' best!
Each golden head, unfilleted,
The charm of sleep confest.
They sprang like flowers; like folding flowers
God gathered them to rest.
Fulfilled of Eros' best!
Each golden head, unfilleted,
The charm of sleep confest.
They sprang like flowers; like folding flowers
God gathered them to rest.