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Under the Snowy Steppes
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Under the snowy steppes, down the silent river,
Where the dark pines gather, where their dark plumes quiver,
Is his sepulchre.
Her woven meshes interlaced
His being; clasped, in sin embraced,
He yielded him, willing idolater.
Under the snowy steppes, down the silent river,
Where the dark pines gather, where their dark plumes quiver,
Is his sepulchre.
Her love burnt bright till, gorged, o'er-fed—
Love born of lust is soonest dead!—
To loose his bonds was her endeavour.
Under the snowy steppes, down the silent river,
Where the dark pines gather, where their dark plumes quiver,
Is his sepulchre.
His love consumed his inmost soul,
Resistless, passed beyond control;
