Claude McKay

“ I always see the cheerful little room,
⁠And in the corner, fresh and white, the bed
Sweet scented with a delicate perfume,
⁠Wherein for one night only we were wed:
Where in the starlit stillness we lay mute
⁠And heard the whispering showers all night long,
And your brown burning body was a lute
⁠Whereon wild passion played his fevered song.
When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
⁠With scarlet roses staining her fair feet,
My soul takes leave of me to sing all day
⁠A night of rare love, perfect and complete. ”