And, hungry for the old, familiar ways

Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate Against the potent poison of your hate.

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth, Stealing my breath of life, I will confess I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!

The shivering birds beneath the eaves Have sheltered for the night.

The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet, A chafing savage, down the decent street; And passion rends my vitals as I pass, Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.

If we must die, O let us nobly die, So that our precious blood may not be shed In vain; then even the monsters we defy Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!

The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls, Devoured her with their eager, passionate gaze; But looking at her falsely-smiling face, I knew her self was not in that strange place.