AS when the hunt by holt and field br Drives on with horn and strife, br Hunger of hopeless things pursues br Our spirits throughout life. br br The sea's roar fills us aching full br Of objectless desire - br The sea's roar, and the white moon-shine, br And the reddening of the fire. br br Who talks to me of reason now? br It would be more delight br To have died in Cleopatra's arms br Than be alive to-night.