What is this, before my eyes?
Form of beauty, dramatized?
The moment fresh in Autumn air;
Gaia's Daughter met me there.
Though she may be of the divine,
I glimpsed her once and twice ago.
But ne'er before has she so shined;
Immortal fire, yet soft as snow.
Now man of flesh and blood am I,
Enslaved unto the mortal realm;
And thus I've sought from mythic eye
A vision that might overwhelm.
Often Gaia hears my plea,
And renders visions unto me.
But never did I hope to spy
Gaia's Daughter, glorified.
Oh, her eyes! Embodied song!
Oh, her smile! Like break of day!
And how am I to go so long,
Without her light to light the way?
But fully known and fully clear,
This mystery shall never be.
For we are two of different spheres,
Mortal against eternity.
So shade my eyes from blinding light,
But keep my gaze above the ground;
Her servants are in mortal sight,
Gaia's Daughter, all around.
She's with and is her servants now;
This gift to Man the gods allow.
So then I ask to those above:
Which priestess shall I come to love?