Classic Poem

Birds that are beautiful and sing in the sun
Fly southward when the summer day is done.
Oh may the fountains of the golden south
Be worthy of your delicate thirsting mouth!
Oh may the magic of the tropic isles
Where the great palm trees lift their tufted crests
Answer the light and music of your smiles
And may the waves curl gently round your breasts.
Southward as goes the swallow to the sun
May you go ever till the race be run —
And at the end, may Time whose terrible feet
With the swift splendor of your limbs compete,
May he be merciful, and just at the goal
Smite suddenly the beautiful body and soul.