votarist

No, gods, I am no aureate votarist.

The votarist is one who has made a vow.

Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed.

They left me then when the gray-hooded Even, Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed, Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain.

But mine is not the failure God deplores; For I of old am beauty's votarist, Long recreant, often foiled and led astray, But resolute at last to seek her there Where most she does abide, and crave with tears That she assoil me of my blemishment.