Poem by Arthur William Symons

Satiety

I have outlived my life, and linger on,
Knowing myself the ghost of one that was.
Come, kindly death, and let my flesh (being grass)
Nourish some beast's sad life when I am gone.
What joy is left in all I look upon?
I cannot sin, it wearies me. Alas!
I loathe the laggard moments as they pass;
I tire of all but swift oblivion.

Yet, if all power to taste the dear deceit
Be not outworn and perished utterly;
If it could be, then surely it were sweet--
I go down on my knees and pray: O God,
Send me some last illusion, ere I be
A clod--perhaps at rest--within a clod. 

1. Serata Di Fiesta
2. In The Temple
3. By The Pool Of The Third Rosses
4. The Abandoned
5. Variations Upon Love

Ella Wilcox Satiety ("To yearn for what we have not had, to sit")

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