NON SUM QUALIS ERAM BONAE SUB REGNO CYNARAE

by: Ernest Dowson

      AST night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
      There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
      Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
      And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
      Yea, I was desolate and bow'd by head:
      I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
       
      All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
      Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
      Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
      But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
      When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
      I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fasion.
       
      I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
      Flung roses, roses, riotously with the throng,
      Dancing, to put thy pale lost lilies out of mind;
      But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
      Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
      I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
       
      I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
      But when the feast is finish'd and the lamps expire,
      Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
      And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
      Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
      I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

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