Laws were abolished, and pleasure's lewdest voice
Hawked in the market-place, and through the streets.
Her story done, Veera entreated me
To set my face for Mesched with the dawn.
"Not yet," I said, "not yet." And then I made
Strange passes with my hands, and braced my will,
To sway her will; then with a questioning glance
She passed out to a calm Mesmeric sleep.
So, well I knew that I had found the soul
My purpose needed, and I bade her wake.
VII.
THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR.
I sat and pondered in my room that night
Until the towers and steeples, near and far,
Like sentries of the sky, issued the hour
Of midnight. Then I wrought magnetic force
With waving hands; and set my swerveless will
That Veera should approach me, and that none
Should harm or see her as she passed the streets.
At last I heard her footstep on the stair—
The patter of her feet as soft as rain,
And then she turned the hinge and entered in.
A long white wrapper made of satin, bound
With lace of gold, and fastened at the throat
With buttons of cut diamond, clad her form.
A band of opals was around her neck—
A hundred little worlds with central fires.
Her feet were naked, and her hair was down.
