| The lot of love is chosen. I learnt that much |
| Struggling for an image on the track |
| Of the whirling Zodiac. |
| Scarce did he my body touch, |
| Scarce sank he from the west |
| Or found a subterranean rest |
| On the maternal
midnight of my breast |
| Before I had marked him on his northern way, |
| And seemed to stand although
in bed I lay. |
|
|
|
|
| I struggled with the horror of daybreak, |
| I chose it for my lot! If questioned on |
| My utmost
pleasure with a man |
| By some new-married bride, I take |
| That stillness for a theme |
| Where his heart my
heart did seem |
| And both adrift on the miraculous stream |
| Where—wrote a learned astrologer— |
| The
Zodiac is changed into a sphere. |