XIV
Alas! the appointed term is sternly set
Inviolable to this our colloquy.
For though you be afar, my Lola, yet
You have been with me, whispering to me.
I bow my head to write, and on the nape
O' th' neck I feel you lips. I raise my head
To dream—you mouth achieves its luscious rape—
I fall back—you are on me—I am dead.
Could it be better? For I surely know
That you will follow me adown the deep
When I lay pen and paper by, and go
Into the ardent avenues of sleep:—
There also we will drink the appeasing wine,
Lola, my Lola, mystic maiden o' mine!
Inviolable to this our colloquy.
For though you be afar, my Lola, yet
You have been with me, whispering to me.
I bow my head to write, and on the nape
O' th' neck I feel you lips. I raise my head
To dream—you mouth achieves its luscious rape—
I fall back—you are on me—I am dead.
Could it be better? For I surely know
That you will follow me adown the deep
When I lay pen and paper by, and go
Into the ardent avenues of sleep:—
There also we will drink the appeasing wine,
Lola, my Lola, mystic maiden o' mine!
— 32 —
