Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/223

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Satana.
187
The lights and shadows of the bush, The prattling music of the creek,The stir of insects, and the hush Of Solitude—these are the joys I seek.
Oh idle words! Since Marsyas died, How many has Apollo slain?And ah! how many too have tried To win you or to shun you—but in vain.

Ebenezer Storry Hay

CXXIV.

Satana.

She draws all men to serve her, and her lureIs her pulsating human loveliness—The beauty of her bosom’s rippling lines,The passion pleading in her eyes, the pureSoft contour of her cheek, her dainty dress,With all the rich aroma of her warmGlad womanhood perfumed, her supple formCurving and swaying like a living flower,Aflush with life and youth. These are the signsBy which she makes her sovereignty secure.
But though her red lips mock me of their wine,And that low laugh of hers fills me with fire,As, spent with loving, in her scorn I lie;Yet some day she will come to me and twineHer slender arms about me: and desire
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