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The naked pale limbs of the dawn lie sheathed in dove-white folds of lawn

But from one scarlet breast I see the cloudy cover slowly drawn.

Not all the blood of all our dead, the bright gay blood so gaily shed,

Shines with so clear a glow as gleams your breast-flower peering from our bed.

All night your body lies and throbs, with cries of love and amorous sobs,

Close to my blood-flushed limbs till dawn with gleaming fingers comes and robs

Our bright bed of your limbs and hair, and I can only lie and stare

And moan in weakness for my loss and crush my brow in sharp despair.

Ah, bend above me, dear, and take my life breath with your lips and break

My body up as wheaten bread and use my very blood to slake

Your parching sudden thirst of lust! Be cruel, love, be fierce and thrust

Your white teeth in my flesh and taste how honey-sweet is amorous dust!