Lay thy warm, white hand in mine

Let the fingers clasp and twine,

While my eager, panting heart

Beats 'gainst thine.

Bring thy velvet lips a-near,

Mine are hungry for a kiss,

Gladly will I sate them, dear;

Closer, closer,—this,—and this.

On thy lips love's seal I lay,

Nevermore to pass away;—

That was all last night, you know,

But to-day—

Chinese lanterns hung in strings,

Painted paper, penny dips,—

Filled with roasted moths and things

Greasy with the tallow drips;

Wet and torn, with rusty wire,

Blackened by the dying fire;

Withered flowers, trampled deep

In the mire.

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