(From Christophe des Laurières)

From all the moments of our love,
What moment would I most recall?
That first mad kiss, that made you swoon
Upon the bedded leaves of fall?

That hour, when careless of the ferns
And blossoms crushed whereon we lay,
I found the fruits of my desire
Amid your garments' disarray?

That time upon the tiger-skin
When kiss by kiss my lips had set
A rosy girdle round your breast
And round your throat a carcanet?

That eve when sudden rapture was
The rainbow of a storm of tears,
And something in us rose and bloomed
That dies not with the barren years?

The dawn that found us wakeful still,
And lit the flushing window-pane—
Till I arose and drew the blind
And sought your waiting arms again?

Alas! I cannot bear to choose
Where all is infinitely dear:
From all our love, I would not lose
A smile, a pulse-beat or a tear!