Satana

SHE draws all men to serve her, and her lure Is her pulsating human loveliness— The beauty of her bosom's rippling lines, The passion pleading in her eyes, the pure Soft contour of her cheek, her dainty dress, With all the rich aroma of her warm Glad womanhood perfumed, her supple form Curving and swaying like a living flower, Aflush with life and youth. These are the signs By which she queens the hearts of men, the power By which she makes her sovereignty secure! But though her red lips mock me of their wine, And that low laugh of hers fills me with fire, As, spent with loving, in her scorn I lie; Yet some day she will come to me and twine Her slender arms about me; and desire Will plead in those eyes that were all disdain, And break her bosom with a sob of pain, And her hot lips will lavish all their store Of hungry kisses on me—then shall I Remember all her queenly coldness, or With kisses make her breathing beauty mine?