Flaming Marble

I carved a woman out of marble when The walls of Athens echoed to my fame, And in the myrtle crown was shrined my name. I wrought with skill beyond all mortal ken. And into cold inhuman beauty then I breathed a touch of white and living flame— And from her pedestal she rose and came To snare the souls and rend the hearts of men.

Without a soul, without a human heart She shattered mortal love and mortal pride And even I fell victim to my art, With bitter joyless love I took my bride. And still with frozen hate that never dies She sits and stares at me with icy eyes.