Harry Pilcer at the Pavilion Spring 1914.

Wind upon a burning torch,
Blown back hair ascorch,
Body lifted like a lance,
 Dance!

Sullen face with love and wine
Darkened, lifted for a sign
Of the God behind your eyes
Dionyse

God with your pale powdered face,
Subtleties of your embrace
Steel under a flaming scarf,
Laugh!

Wine dark honey pouring free,
Pitiless cool urgent bee,
Gentleness to barb your sting,
Spring!