The Shrine

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Title:     The Shrine
Author: Sara Teasdale [More Titles by Teasdale]

There is no lord within my heart,
Left silent as an empty shrine
Where rose and myrtle intertwine,
Within a place apart.

No god is there of carven stone
To watch with still approving eyes
My thoughts like steady incense rise;
I dream and weep alone.

But if I keep my altar fair,
Some morning I shall lift my head
From roses deftly garlanded
To find the god is there.

[The end]
Sara Teasdale's poem: Shrine

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