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Arthur Henry Adams - Antagonists.
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WHAT though the neutral sea sever us twain?
In the still night your soul in mine I take;
Your eyes, hilarious with passion, wake,
And love`s delirium is mine again,
When all your body`s warmth swirled in my brain —
Your face uplifted like a pallid lake
Where in my eager lips their thirst could slake,
With deep-sighed, langourous kisses, keener than pain.
Then suddenly through passion`s rosy mists
A shudder trickled, like a stream of blood:
In a grim pause we felt and understood.
The everlasting war that was our fate —
The pitiless struggle and primeval hate
Of old implacable antagonists.
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