But they writhed from my hands and hissed,
In their hearts were a serpent's eyes.
And my soul said, "Pleasure is she.
The joys of the flesh you see."
Then I bowed with a heart too weary,
That longed to rest, to sleep;
And it seemed in the darkness dreary
I heard my sad heart weep;
And my soul to the silence say,—
"O God! for the break of day!"