Lord alfred douglas autobiography of benjamin

I know a green grass path that leaves the field,
And like a running river, winds along
Into a leafy wood where is no throng
Of birds at noon-day, and no soft throats yield

I have been through the woods to-day
And the leaves were falling,
Summer had crept away,
And the birds were not calling.

I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face
All radiant and unshadowed of distress,
And as of old, in music measureless,
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace

Alas !

I have lost my God,
My beautiful God Apollo.
Wherever his footsteps trod
My feet were wont to follow.

What shall we do, my soul, to please the King?
Seeing he hath no pleasure in the dance,
And hath condemned the honeyed utte