He was looking for a woman, who accompanied herself; needed help like an orphan.
Million men may stand in queue to woe her down.
Her temple might be built from concrete, skin or wet handkerchiefs, but may be opened for prayer and rebirth.
He found a she and with sweet talk, he tried to plant his seed. But she hadn't a willing ear.
She got on fire, he got fired and burned alive.
I looked to find a man who walked with God,
Like the translated patriarch of old;--
Though gladdened millions on His footstool trod,
Yet none with him did such sweet converse hold;
I heard the wind in low complaint go by
That none his melodies like him could hear;
Day unto day spoke wisdom from on high,
Yet none like David turned a willing ear;
God walked alone unhonored through the earth;
For Him no heart-built temple open stood,
The soul forgetful of her nobler birth
Had hewn him lofty shrines of stone and wood,
And left unfinished and in ruins still
The only temple he delights to fill.