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Poems (Scudder)/The Priestess

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4532473Poems — The PriestessAntoinette Quinby Scudder

THE PRIESTESS
I builtMy altar-fire With myrrh and sandalwood, Hoping some bright-haired god and strong Would come.
There flew From night and storm And sank upon my breast Wet-winged and spent with aimless flight A dove—