Menken, Adah Isaacs
Now I gloss my pale face with laughter, and sail my.
voice on with the tide.48Decked in jewels and lace, I laugh beneath the gas
light's glare, and quaff the purple wine.
But the minor-keyed soul is standing naked and hungry
Upon one of Heaven's high hills of light
Standing and waiting for the blood of the feast!
Starving for one poor word!
Waiting for God to launch out some beacon on the
boundless shores of this Night.
Shivering for the uprising of some soft wing under
which it may creep, lizard-like, to warmth and rest.
Waiting! Starving and shivering!