Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from The Lantern, Vol. 1: September, 1915
I have forgot much, Cynara! Gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind; But I was desolate and sick Of an Old passion, Yea, all the time, because the dance was long: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! In my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine, But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire, Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! The night is thine; And I am desolate and sick of an Old passion, Yea, hungry for the lips Of my desire: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! In my fashion.
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