Temptation that I once need seek,
I find this world’s alluring prince
Has now brought to my idle hands,
Each swipe a spark of steel and flints.
Summoning swarming succubi
Whose siren’s song I know so well
The promise of a pleasure swift,
Which recollection should dispel.
For I have heeded oft the call
To gaze upon another lyre
Imagining the soaring song
To come should I such harp acquire.
Tangled in phantom melodies,
I walk outside to entertain
Which instrument could ‘haps impart
The touch I cannot yet attain.
A crunching leaf’s prophetic voice
Recalls from vain idolatry—
Imagined resonance and voice
That never once made melody.
“Enough!” it says. Be thou content
With this, and all delight I’ll be,
Of all the sounds most sonorous
For I recall thyself to thee.