The great Greek lovers of gold and ivory things,
Austere and perfect things, albeit they wrought
Girl-shapes with driven raiment, conquering wings,
And smiling queens of Cnidos, turned and sought
A more inviolate beauty that should keep
Their secret dream. Their grave sweet geniuses
Of love and death, of rapture or of sleep,
Are delicately severed from all excess.—
Ah! suppliant, honey-white, the languor cleaves
About the dolorous weak body He,
The Dark Eros, with staunchless spear-thrust grieves;
Heavy the seal of that mortality.
No wounds disgrace the haughty acolytes
Of heavenly sorrows, of divine delights.