Come, Gorgo, put the rug in place
Come, Gorgo, put the rug in place,
And passionate recline;
I love to see thee in thy grace,
Dark, virulent, divine.
But wherefore thus thy proud eyes fix
Upon a jewelled band?
Art thou so glad the sardonyx
Becomes thy shapely hand?
Bethink thee! 'Tis for such as thou
Zeus leaves his lofty seat;
'Tis at thy beauty's bidding how
Man's mortal life shall fleet;
Those fairest hands—dost thou forget
Their power to thrill and cling?
O foolish woman, dost thou set
Thy pride upon a ring?
And passionate recline;
I love to see thee in thy grace,
Dark, virulent, divine.
But wherefore thus thy proud eyes fix
Upon a jewelled band?
Art thou so glad the sardonyx
Becomes thy shapely hand?
Bethink thee! 'Tis for such as thou
Zeus leaves his lofty seat;
'Tis at thy beauty's bidding how
Man's mortal life shall fleet;
Those fairest hands—dost thou forget
Their power to thrill and cling?
O foolish woman, dost thou set
Thy pride upon a ring?
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