Stooping timeward from the skies,
Burning redly in the dew.
THE HARLOT OF THE WORLD
O Life, thou harlot who beguilest all!
Beautiful in thy house, the gorgeous world,
Abidest thou, where Powers pinion-furled
And flying Splendours follow to thy call.
Innumerous like the stars or like the dust,
Nations and monarchs were thy thralls of yore: