The ebon eyes of thy Bridget!
And work with a sulphur digit
Through the weft of my firey loom.
Work on my loom of Passion
Where the threads of every fashion
That in Zamiel’s flax fields bloom.
Come twin-soul to my cavern!
Press firm thy lips against mine!
Drink from Love’s joyous tavern,
Drink deep of Passion’s wine!