THE EYES OF BEAUTY. YOU are a sky of autumn, pale and rose; But all the sea of sadness in my blood- Surges, and ebbing, leaves my lips morose, Salt with the memory of the bitter flood. In vain your hand glides my faint bosom o'er, That which you seek, beloved, is desecrate- By woman's tooth and talon; ah, no more- Seek in me for a heart which those dogs ate. It is a ruin where the jackals rest, And rend and tear and glut themselves and slay— A perfume swims about your naked breast! Beauty, hard scourge of spirits, have your way! With flame-like eyes that at bright feasts have flared- Burn up these tatters that the beasts have spared!