And her auburn tresses wreathing

Like umbrageous helichrys,

There she stands, like fire and snow,

In the moon's ambrosial glow,

Both her shapely loins low-looped

With the balmy blossoms, drooped,

Of the deep amaracus.

Spiritual yet sensual,

Lo, she ever greets me thus

In my vision; white and tall,

Her delicious body there,—

Raimented with amorous air,—

To my mind expresses all

The allurements of the world.

And once more I seem to feel

[28]

On my soul, like frenzy, hurled

All the passionate past.—I reel,

Greek again in ancient Greece,

In the Pyrrhic revelries;

 Prev. P 47/139 next