Among the fuchsias

Call me not to a secret place

when daylight dies away,

tempt me not with tine eager face

and words thou shouldst not say.

Entice me not with a child of thine,

ah, God, if such might be,

for surely a man is half divine

who adds another link to the line

whose last link none may see.

Call me not to the Lotus lake

where drooping fuchsias hide,

what if my latent youth awakes

and will not be denied?

Ah, tempt me not for I am not strong

(thy mouth is a budded kiss)

My days are empty, my nights are long;

ah, why is a thing so sweet so wrong,

why is a thing so sweet so wrong

as thy temptation is?