"For let Philosopher and Doctor preach Of what they will and what they will not, -each Is but one link in an eternal chain That none can slip nor break nor over-reach." "Crimson nor yellow roses nor The savour of the mounting sea Are worth the perfume I adore That clings to thee. The languid-headed lilies tire, The changeless waters weary me; I ache with passionate desire Of thine and thee. There are but these things in the world- Thy mouth of fire, Thy breasts, thy hands, thy hair upcurled And my desire."

"For let Philosopher and Doctor preach Of what they will and what they will not, -each Is but one link in an eternal chain That none can slip nor break nor over-reach." "Crimson nor yellow roses nor The savour of the mounting sea Are worth the perfume I adore That clings to thee. The languid-headed lilies tire, The changeless waters weary me; I ache with passionate desire Of thine and thee. There are but these things in the world- Thy mouth of fire, Thy breasts, thy hands, thy hair upcurled And my desire."