Cynara

Cynara

Last night, ah yesternight, between her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara, thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat
Nightlong within mine arms in love and sleep she lay
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion
When I awoke and found the dawn was gray
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion

I have forgot much, Cynara, gone with the wind
Flung roses riotously with the throng
Dancing, dancing to put thy pale, lost lilies out of my mind
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion
Yea, all the time because the dance was long
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire
There falls thy shadow, Cynara, the night is thine
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion
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