The Summer Gardens of the Flesh

In the reign of the feminine
When your skin was a golden flush,
In the age of desire, in
The summer gardens of the flesh

When everything shone and was precious
And the rivers ran singing to sea
And the fruit on the trees hung luscious
And all things were as they should be:

I barely noticed a thing,
I walked in a dream and was dull,
Blind to your bright eyes sparkling—
Blind, blind to you, my beautiful!

And now that the light has vanished
From your eyes, and my heart is cold,
And the play is nearly finished
And the story is almost told,

I see you once more as you were!
A fragment of the Beautiful,
Fading. Soon, soon to disappear
Into the black night of the skull.

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