I know the woman has no soul, I know br The woman has no possibilities br Of soul or mind or heart, but merely is br The masterpiece of flesh: well, be it so. br It is her flesh that I adore; I go br Thirsting afresh to drain her empty kiss. br I know she cannot love: it is not this br My vanquished heart implores in overthrow. br Tyrannously I crave, I crave alone, br Her splendid body, Earth's most eloquent br Music, divinest human harmony; br Her body now a silent instrument, br That 'neath my touch shall wake and make for me br The strains I have but dreamed of, never known.