When they were canopied, and had the
To lace their spirits in the trembling cup,
And all the holy words sang round their
In tribute to the maker and the vine,
He saw the leeching sea lap, like darkness,
Up her summer’s gown, as if dark time
And he should race to claim the maidenhead.
When he smashed the cup, then ruin spread.
The dazzled floor showed sea and blood.
Beyond this harvest that the ritual bore
(Their mothers weeping on the farther
They saw the journeying years extend.
And Zion’s hill rose for their reckoning.