Ashtoreth

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Ashtoreth

In thy blue pallid gown that shimmereth

So pale thou standest in the wan moonlight,

Where the gold censer near thy body white

Wraps thee around with its perfumed breath;

So wan thy high tiara glimmereth

Above thy mystical far eyes of light,

Thou seemest some dead goddess of the night,

O starry love, O changeless Ashtoreth.

Pallid thou standest in thy divinity,

Like some moon-idol of the buried time,

Before whose face priests sing in solemn chime.

So I prostrate before thy deity,

Unto thy face have solemn praises sung,

And in my hands a golden censer swung.