Robert Graves - In Her Praise lyrics

This they know well: the Goddess yet abides. Though each new lovely woman whom she rides, Straddling her neck a year or two or three, Should sink beneath such weight of majesty And, groping back to humankind, gainsay The headlong power that whitened all her way With a broad track of trefoil—leaving you, Her chosen lover, ever again thrust through With daggers, your purse rifled, your rings gone— Nevertheless they call you to live on To parley with the pure, oracular dead, To hear the wild pack whimpering overhead, To watch the moon tugging at her cold tides. Woman is mortal woman. She abides.