The panting hearts of men, and passion-kissed
I sink, voluptuous, down, and, mad, outpour
The wild, fierce tides of Love, Desire, and Hate,
That writhed and burned while reigned the weary Day.
To me hies Love to seek his cooing mate,
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And Crime to wash his blood in dews away.
Around my shrines I twine my clinging arms,
And sing sweet songs that Memory lingers o'er, -
A yielding maiden, clothed in tender charms,
A languid goddess from some love-burnt shore.
TWILIGHT.GRAY-HAIRED am I, - and sad as Memory's tales,
And vague as visions in a poet's dream,
And light as mists that hang o'er shadowed vales,
Where murmurs aye some hurtling, gurgling stream;
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CRIMSON BOOKSHELFTo sea, to sea! The calm is o'er; The wanton water leaps in sport, And rattles down the pebbly shore;
