And overthrew
The empty show and thin deceits of sex,
Pale nightmares of this barren world that vex
The soul of man, shaken by every breeze
Too faint to stir the silver olive trees
Or lift the Dryad's smallest straying tress
Frozen in her clear marble loveliness.
He, in curved lips and smiling eyes,
Hid the last secret's faint surprise
Of one who dies in fear and pain