Priestess, what wilt thou sacrifice?
The altar of the dawn's afire,
The gods stoop from their paradise
To taste the ash of thy desire.

What canst thou offer save a dream?
This body is but dust of earth,
And life's a purple passion-stream,
And mind a moon of airy birth.

Within the Fire offer fire,
Thy silent heart's pure lonely flame;
What hast thou lovelier or higher
To burn before his beauteous Name?

O priestess-soul, before He call,
The Sun-God of the mystic dance,
Gather thy strength and lay thy all
Upon the dawn's red altar-trance.

Then He, the Lord of sacrifice
Will open his gold-gates of grace,
And lay upon thy new-born eyes
The lustrous vision of His face.

- Themis