Page:Stars of the Desert.djvu/110



God, that I could love thee less! My days are lost in dreams of thee. I do my work in weariness, Till kindly twilight sets me free.

Throughout the night thy beauty burns, The more possessed, the more desired. Until another day returns To find me desperately tired.

Ah, me, that I could love thee more! I know thee kind; I see thee fair, Why can I not, as oft of yore, In soft caresses lose my care?

At times life's dragging afternoon Is quickened by thy morning charms; I seek thee, but alas! I soon Forget thee, even in thine arms!

98