SEMPER IDEM.
1
Hold up thy head and crush
Thy heart's despair;
From thy wan temples brush
The tear-wet hair.
2
Look on me thus as I
Gaze upon thee;
Nor question how nor why
Such things can be.
3
Thou thought'st it love!—poor fool!
That which was lust!
Which made thee, beautiful,
Vile as the dust!
4
Thy flesh I craved, thy face!—
Love shrinks at this—
Now on thy lips to place
One farewell kiss!—
5
Weep not, but die!—'tis given—
And so—farewell!—
Die!—that which makes death heaven,
Makes life a hell.