I see myself in many different dresses...

I see myself in many different dresses,

In many moods, and many different places;

All gold amid the grey where solemn faces

Are silence to my mirth — a flame that blesses

From yellow lamp the darkness which oppresses...

Or mid the dancers in their trivial laces

Aloof, as in the ring a lion paces,

Disdainful of their slander or caresses.

I see myself the child of many races,

Poisoners, martyrs, harlots and princesses;

Within my soul a thousand weary traces

Of pain and joy and passionate excesses —

Eternal beauty that our brief love chases

With snatch of desperate hands and dying tresses.