Page:Harlem Shadows (1922).djvu/108



I will not reason, wrestle here with you,

Though you pursue and worry me about;

As well put forth my swarthy arm to stop

The wild wind howling, darkly mad without.

The night is yours for revels; day will light.

I will not fight you, bold and tigerish,

For I am weak, while you are gaining strength;

Peace! cease tormenting me to have your wish.

But when you're filled and sated with the flesh,

I shall go swiftly to the silver stream,

To cleanse my body for the spirit's sake,

And sun my limbs, and close my eyes to dream.