A SONG FOR MARNA.

Dame of the night of hair

Like blue smoke blown!

World yet undreamed-of there

Lurks to be known.

Dame of the dizzy eyes,

Lure of dim quests!

World of what midnights lies

Under thy breasts!

Dame of the quench of love,

Give me to quaff!

There's all the world's made of

Under thy laugh.

Dame of the dare of gods,

Let the sky lower!

Time, give the world for odds,—

I choose this hour.