Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

118. Whom We Worship

I WOULD not have the love of lips and eyes,

The ancient ways of love:

But in my heart I built a Paradise,

A nest there for the dove.

I felt the wings of light that fluttered through

The gate I held apart:

And all without was shadow, but I knew

The bird within my heart.

Then, while the innermost with music beat,

The voice I loved so long

Seemed only the dream echo faint and sweet

Of a far sweeter song.

I could not even bear the thought I felt

Of Thee and Me therein;

And with white heat I strove the veil to melt

That love to love might win.

But ah, my dreams within their fountain fell;

Not to be lost in thee,

But with the high ancestral love to dwell

In its lone ecstasy.