Why in the concourse dost thou seek
The poet’s wild, ecstatic shriek,
Or lookest for another’s riot,
Whose heart is troubled and unquiet?

My affluent muse was taught by thee
To swim the waves of melody;
Why seekest thou the gem? Behold,
My pierced heart dotb the sea enfold.

Except within thy presence there
I stand. I cannot breathe my prayer:
My heart before thy feet I fling—
What else should unbeliever bring?