EPILOGUE 
  
With heart at peace I climbed the mountain 
trail 
Whence I could contemplate with quiet eyes 
The city: hospital, limbo, brothel, gaol, 
  
Where all iniquity opens flowerwise. 
O Satan, patron of my soul dismayed, 
You know I sought no refuge for vain sighs, 
  
But like an old pauper with his cinder-jade 
I coveted drunkenness from the mammoth 
trull 
Whose hell-born charms bring back my youth 
[that’s strayed. 
  
While you still sleep obscure and leaden 
dull, 
Clouted with morning, rheumy-eyed, or 
preen 
Yourself in gold-laced evening, veiled in full, 
  
I love you, infamous Capital! To quean 
And highwayman, you tender ravishment 
Which lurks unknown to those of common 
men. 
  
PIERRE LOVING.