Page:Poems of Baudelaire Sturm.djvu/113

54 I know your heart, which overflows
 * With outworn loves long cast aside,

Still like a furnace flames and glows, And you within your breast enclose
 * A damnèd soul's unbending pride;

But till your dreams without release
 * Reflect the leaping flames of hell;

Till in a nightmare without cease You dream of poison to bring peace,
 * And love cold steel and powder well;

And tremble at each opened door,
 * And feel for every man distrust,

And shudder at the striking hour— Till then you have not felt the power
 * Of Irresistible Disgust.

My queen, my slave, whose love is fear,
 * When you awaken shuddering,

Until that awful hour be here, You cannot say at midnight drear:
 * "I am your equal, O my King!"