Interior Life

A long while I dwelt beneath vast porticoes,
While the ocean-suns bathed with a thousand fires,
And which with their great and majestic spires,
At eventide looked like basaltic grottoes.

The billows, in rolling depictured the skies,
And mingled, in solemn and mystical strain,
The all-mighteous chords of their luscious refrain
With the sun-set's colours reflexed in mine eyes.

It is there that I lived in exalted calm,
In the midst of the azure, the splendour, the waves,
While pregnant with perfumes, naked slaves

Refreshed my forehead with branches of palm,
Whose gentle and only care was to know
The secret that caused me to languish so.