A NEW EDEN

You blow spring whispers on the wind,
Fingering chords of a luscious deep--
Shadowy harp-song in my mind
To drive delirious death to sleep.

Upon the sea a moon-spray moves,
A stormy, heaving, evening light,
Which but a languid mist it leaves
Of dew-wet grass and fire-fly flight.

Sing softly still of love, my sweet.
In panting waves of aching skin,
And rain like fire in streaks of heat.
I'll clasp you tightly once again.

I, a gorgeous garden goddess,
Will dare to shake the peach fruit tree--
Not one forbidden, but no less
Desired and devoured by me.

Delicious as a symphony,
Your honeyed tongue plays trippingly.