Page:The Yellow Book - 03.djvu/135

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By Theodore Wratislaw
111
Here in the babbling room agleam
With scarlet lips and naked arms
And such rich jewels as beseem
The painted damzel's charms,

Even now your tired and subtle face
Bears record to the wondrous time
When from your limbs' lascivious grace
Sprang forth your splendid crime.

And though none deem it true, of those
Who watch you in our banal age
Like some stray fairy glide and pose
Upon a London stage,

Yet I to whom your frail caprice
Turns for the moment ardent eyes
Have seen the strength of love release
Your sleeping memories.

I too am servant to your glance,
I too am bent beneath your sway,
My wonder! My desire! who dance
Men's heads and hearts away.

Sweet arbitress of love and death,
Unchanging on time's changing sands,
You hold more lightly than a breath
The world between your hands!