Bright eyes, sweet lips, with many fevers fill
The young blood, running wildly, as it must;
But lips and eyes beget a strange distrust.
Electric fingers send the sudden thrill
Through senses unsubservient to the will;
The flames die down, and leave a dim disgust;
Unfragrant kisses turn to drouth and dust;
I kiss; I feast; but I am hungry still.
O woman, woman, passionate but strong!
True to thy love as needle to the pole--
True to the truth, and not alone to me--
O mate and friend, elusive in the throng,
With thy clear brows, thy straight and upright soul,
Nameless--unknown--my hunger is for thee!
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