Women

What speculation is more supreme
Than to entrust your heart
To a woman's care?
What youth's wistful dream
Can lips of a strange woman bear?

Ships laden with silk and spices
Sail out of the placid harbour to the sea.
Man knows no woman's devices
She is twice fickled as the sea.

Words are instrument of conception
Lips when meeting never plead untrue.
Only action proves deception—
And time shows their rightful hue.

* * *

Last night you crushed me in your arms and kissed me
As if I were some rose that gave delight
I was your queen and thou my lord and only
First lover of my life
But thou didst take and cast me
As a flower that has waned
And last night's beauty that was so thrilling
Has faded with the night.

If love, could be so changing
I can die a thousand deaths
But thou O Death must only
Lie with me this Night.