Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/223
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Satana.
187
The lights and shadows of the bush,
The prattling music of the creek,
The stir of insects, and the hush
Of Solitude—these are the joys I seek.
The prattling music of the creek,
The stir of insects, and the hush
Of Solitude—these are the joys I seek.
Oh idle words! Since Marsyas died,
How many has Apollo slain?
And ah! how many too have tried
To win you or to shun you—but in vain.
How many has Apollo slain?
And ah! how many too have tried
To win you or to shun you—but in vain.
Ebenezer Storry Hay
CXXIV.
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 makes her sovereignty secure.
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 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
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