( 80)
MORS JANUA AMORIS
N the night my passion fancies
That an incense vapour whirls,
That a cloud of perfume trances
With its dreamy vapour-curls
All my soul, with whom there dances
The one girl of mortal girls.
The one girl whose wanton glances
Soften into living pearls
Comes, a fatal, fleeting vision,
Turns my kisses to derision,
Smiles upon my breast, and sighs,
Flits, and laughs, and fades, and dies.
By the potent starry speeches;
By the spells of mystic kings;
By the magic passion teaches;
By the strange and sacred things
By whose power the master reaches
To the stubborn fiery springs;
By the mystery of the beaches
, Where the siren Sibyl sings;
I will hold her, live and bleeding;
Clasp her to me, pale and pleading;