A naked penitence which no man sees.
My cup of life is drunken to the lees,
And thine hath still its bead along the brim;
And therefore, as in halls empty and dim,
Wakens thy step the echoes in my heart,
And all thy heady ways and reckless tongue,
That splits the marrow like a Kalmuck's dart,
Seem like my very own when first I flung
A challenge in the teeth of life. God knows,
The stars will not again look down on me