Last night, ah yesternight, between her lips and mine There fell thy shadow, Cynara, thy breath was shed Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine And I was desolate and sick of an old passion Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat Nightlong within mine arms in love and sleep she lay Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet And I was desolate and sick of an old passion When I awoke and found the dawn was gray I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion
I have forgot much, Cynara, gone with the wind Flung roses riotously with the throng Dancing, dancing to put thy pale, lost lilies out of my mind And I was desolate and sick of an old passion Yea, all the time because the dance was long I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire There falls thy shadow, Cynara, the night is thine And I was desolate and sick of an old passion Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion 1