X
Are not the poppy-fields one snowy flame ?
Come, let us wander hand
in hand therein,
Staining with joyous juice our lips of shame,
Draining their bitter draught of sterile sin!
Are not the eyes of sleep already dull,
The lashes drooping over their desire?
Are not the gods awaiting to annul
With Lethe the last flicker of the fire?
Ay, let us kiss, my darling; let us twitch
For the last time the flesh against the flesh,
Before the coming of the lovely witch
That shall excite our sleepy souls afresh,
Anointing us with subtle drugs and suave,
Vit for the grave, for love beyond the grave!
-—— 126 —
Xl
Yor the last time, my Lola! Still the name
Fills me with music, echoing afar
Faint, like the rapture of some ghostly flame
Rejoicing in some lone secreted star
Beyond the visible heaven. Come to me!
Come closer ! Is not this as close as death?
Are we not one to all eternity
Jewelled with joy? Mix me your subtle breath
Into the words well-known and never worn,
Into the kiss well-kissed and never tired,
Into the love well-loved and not forlorn,
The love beyond all that ever was desired ?
Ay. all the cloudy must of life is strained
To clearer liquor that our souls attained.