Amy Lowell

The Temple

Between us leapt a gold and scarlet flame.
Into the hollow of the cupped, arched blue
Of Heaven it rose.  Its flickering tongues up-drew
And vanished in the sunshine.  How it came
We guessed not, nor what thing could be its name.
From each to each had sprung those sparks which flew
Together into fire.  But we knew
The winds would slap and quench it in their game.
And so we graved and fashioned marble blocks
To treasure it, and placed them round about.
With pillared porticos we wreathed the whole,
And roofed it with bright bronze.  Behind carved 
locks
Flowered the tall and sheltered flame.  Without,
The baffled winds thrust at a column’s bole.