“BEES of old Spanish wine
Pipe at this Inn to-night,
Music and candleshine
Fill the dim chambers….
“Fans toss and ladies pace,
Flutes of cold metal blow,
Maidens like winds of lace
Tease the dark passages….
“Run, you fat kitchen-boys,
Pasties in pyramids
Rise while your masters poise
Flagons with silver lids….
“Ha! Let the platters fume,
Jars wink and bottles drip,
Staining with smoke and spume
Lips, tables, tapestries….
“Wenches with tousled silk,
Mouths warm and bubble eyes,
Tumble those beds of milk
Under carved canopies….
“Now let your lovers dive
Deep to that hurricane….
O, to be there alive,
Breathing again!”
So the ghost cried, and pressed to the dark pane,
Like a white leaf, his face…in vain…in vain..