Lover can never still in me The ancient fire -- Helen, Lais, Sappho, I am their desire! Not a hundred lovers Nor their sharp embrace, Nor the awful meeting Of Beauty, face to face . . . The need of all women Dwells in my blood -- The thirst of all ages, The burden of womanhood. Not Phaon's kisses Nor Paris' desire Could still in my being The ancient fire! |