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Arthur Symons - Song Of The Sirens
Work rating: Low

Our breasts are cold, salt are our kisses, 
Your blood shall whiten in our sea-blisses; 
A man`s desire is a flame of fire, 
But chill as water is our desire. 
Chill as water that sucks in 
A drowning man`s despairing chin 
With a little kissing noise; 
And like the water`s voice our voice.
 
Our hands are colder than your lovers`. 
Colder than pearls that the sea covers; 
Are a girl`s hands as white as pearls? 
Take the hands of the sea-girls, 
And come with us to the under-sands; 
We will hold in our cold hands 
Flaming heart and burning head, 
And put thought and love to bed. 

We are the last desires; we have waited, 
Till, by all things mortal sated, 
And by dreams deceived, the scorn 
Of every foolish virgin morn, 
You, awakening at last, 
Drunken, beggared of the past, 
In the last lust of despair 
Tangle your souls into our hair.
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