Dusk’s jewelled passion—Oh! my tawny Love!
But when midnight her magic does distil,
Then fathomless, a black abyss, your eyes
Where death, destruction lurk, and whence arise
Sweet danger calls that swift my pulses thrill.
Yes, yes, ’tis Fate that’s king and ruleth all;
Lo! I am one to whom the deeps do call.
XLVIII
Our arms together twined twin marbles are:
Yours, brown, Numidian, warm, turquoise-veined,