Libido

    Drove me cold-eyed on tired and sleepless¹ feet.

    Night was void arms and you a phantom² still

    And day your far light swaying down the street.

    As never fool for love， I starved for you；

    My throat was dry and my eyes hot to see.

    Your mouth so lying was most heaven in view，

    And your remembered smell most agony.

    Love wakens love！ I felt your hot wrist shiver

    And suddenly the mad victory I planned

    Flashed real， in your burning bending head. . .

    My conqueror's blood was cool as a deep river

    In shadow； and my heart beneath your hand

    Quieter than a dead man on a bed.