Reach not to me, thou young May moon,Thy long white arms———O thou seducer! Thou dear seducer!Reach not thy wavering arms—Sure—'twas thine April sister hadMe foolish—making verse to her.O thou seducer! Thou dear seducer!Thou hast me fickle, mad—No! No! Look away—thou'rt lookingIn my window, moon-maid!Take thy fingers off the jonquils—Thy silver fingers—Ah! Dieu! Those streaks of silver!Thou'rt putting beauty touches warily—Seducer—thou dear seducer—Ah! Thou'rt witching me———Reach not—
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