CLEOPATRA
Thy beauty is the warmth and languor and passion of a tropic autumn,
Caressing all the senses,—
With light from skies of heavy azure,
With perfume from hidden orchids many-hued
That burn in the berylline dusk of palms;
With the balmy kiss of tropic wind and wave,
And the songs of exotic birds that pass
In vermilion-flashing flight from isle to isle on a cobalt sea.***
O, sweetness in the inmost sense,