Below the somnolence of prayer,
Under languid visions I
Hear the passions surge and cry:
Lust with lust is warring there.

Thro' the lassitude of dreams
Shines the moon as thro' a mesh;
And the wandering joy of flesh
Still on pestilent beaches gleams.

Under ever-shrouded skies,
Thirsting for their starry fires,
Thro' my veins I hear desires
Toward the green horizon rise.

Evil fondnesses I hear
Blackly surging through my mind.
Phantom marshes vanish blind
Sudden on the sky-line drear.

O Lord, thy wrath will slay me soon:
Have pity on me, Lord, I pray!
Sweating and sick, O let me stray
Thro' pastures glimmering in the moon.

For now, O Lord, the time is nigh
To rase the hemlock with the steel,
Whose moon my secret hopes reveal
Green as a serpent in the sky;

And the plague of dreams mine eyes
Smites, and all its sins subdue,
And the rustling fountains blue
Toward the sovereign moon arise.