Holy Satyr

Most holy Satyr,

like a goat,

with horns and hooves

to match thy coat

of russet brown,

I make leaf-circlets

and a crown of honey-flowers

for thy throat;

where the amber petals

drip to ivory,

I cut and slip

each stiffened petal

in the rift

of carven petal;

honey horn

has wed the bright

virgin petal of the white

flower cluster: lip to lip

let them whisper,

let them lilt, quivering.

Most holy Satyr,

like a goat,

hear this our song,

accept our leaves,

love-offering,

return our hymn,

like echo fling

a sweet song,

answering note for note.