The wide, bright temple of the world I found, 
And entered from the dizzy infinite 
That I might kneel and worship thee in it; 
Leaving the singing stars their ceaseless round 
Of silver music sound on orbed sound, 
For measured spaces where the shrines are lit, 
And men with wisdom or with little wit 
Implore the gods that mercy may abound. 
Ah, Aphrodite, was it not from thee 
My summons came across the endless spaces? 
Mother of Love, turn not thy face from me 
Now that I seek for thee in human faces; 
Answer my prayer or set my spirit free 
Again to drift along the starry places.