Classic Poem

Supple and cruel as a languid snake
 That awes a linnet with dull eyes of flame,
 Thou lurest me by the magic of thy shame
To throw my life away for thy foul sake!

With lawless vice thy ignoble instincts ache,
 And, Borgia-like, imperious, untame,
 Thy soul, to gain its ignominious aim,
Would fain in blood some chaste existence take.

Pale incest stamps its horror on thy brows,
 Red murder gleams in thy rebellious eyes,
  And throes erotic thy base passions thrill.
No pity an outraged world for thee allows,
 The scaffold claims thy carrion as prize,
  But what is that to me? I love thee still!