ORGIE

On nights like this, when bayou and lagoon

Dream in the moonlight's mystic radiance,

I seem to walk like one deep in a trance

With old-world myths born of the mist and moon.

Lascivious eyes and mouths of sensual rose

Smile into mine; and breasts of luring light,

And tresses streaming golden to the night,

Persuade me onward where the forest glows.

And then it seems along the haunted hills

There falls a flutter as of beautiful feet,

As if tempestuous troops of Maenads meet

To drain deep bowls and shout and have their wills.

And then I feel her limbs will be revealed

Like some great snow-white moth among the trees;

Her vampire beauty, waiting there to seize

And dance me downward where my doom is sealed.