Love's Reveller.

Hard have you won her, and must hold as fast! She is Love's reveller — those tawny eyes Are up and down still in warm passion cast, And woe betide the soul whom they surprise! Yet is she yours — you deem not for a while. But have you felt the fiery stress of her? It is a woman's, yet a serpent's smile A Cleopatra yields her worshipper. The cruel sweetness of her beauty lurks In all her lovers' ruin; none may dare To toy with her but love like poison works To madness or the sorrow of despair: — And you — the Antony of her desire? Her love is still as a consuming fire.