# Rue Barrée

> "For let Philosopher and Doctor preach
> Of what they will and what they will not,—each
> Is but one link in an eternal chain
> That none can slip nor break nor over-reach."
> 
> "Crimson nor yellow roses nor
> The savour of the mounting sea
> Are worth the perfume I adore
> That clings to thee.
> The languid-headed lilies tire,
> The changeless waters weary me;
> I ache with passionate desire
> Of thine and thee.
> There are but these things in the world—
> Thy mouth of fire,
> Thy breasts, thy hands, thy hair upcurled
> And my desire."
