I used to bear the burden of the world,
The swirling seas and terraced continents
That like a blanket round its waist are furled
And hold all peoples, places, and events.
I used to carry heaven’s vaulted frame,
Whose grinding gears propel the day and night,
With gold-helmed warriors whirling wheels of flame
Who stab the hungry void with spears of light.
But now I dance the grass beneath the sun,
The fallen leaves, the snow, the violet flowers,
And feast and sing and sacrifice and run,
Or softly sleep in ivy-curtained bowers.
I lose the world, I lose its heavy fear:
A greater One than Heracles is here.