PROLOGUE. 
ix 
Thou wast a lion as an angel then, 
 In copper-glowing lands that gnaws the prey 
He has regotten from the tribes of men. 
 We lay like passion all that deadly day— 
Thou wast a lion as an angel then !   
 
Great angel of the brazen brows, great lover, 
 Great hater of my body as my soul, 
To whom I gave my life and love thrice over, 
 Fill me one last caress—the poison-bowl !   
Great angel of the brazen brows, great lover !