Theseus

Unwind your thought in thread of gold

And thread of crimson, intertwined:

One end within my hand I hold,

And trace your labyrinth of mind.

Through changing corridors your voice,

In accents caught from wall to wall,

Diminishes, while I rejoice

To follow where the echoes fall

Down caverns where the timeless day

Grows insubstantial and obscure,

Until, with heart intent to stay,

I come upon you, Minotaur!