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