The nestling glories of a rose,

Depth on rich depth, soft fold on fold:

Though fairer be it, to behold

Stately and sceptral lilies break

To beauty, and to fragrance wake:

Yet fairer still, to see and sing,

One fair thing is, one matchless thing;

Youth, in its perfect blossoming.

– Lionel Johnson

Close lips that keep the secret in

Half spoken by the stealthy eyes,

Is there indeed no word to win,

No secret, from the vague replies

Of lips and lids that feign to hide

That which they feign to render up?

Is there, in Tantalus’s cup,

The shadow of water, naught beside?

– Arthur Symons

Enter her abode at midnight

And you will find her bruising her drugs.

She will then summon before you

The gods of darkness; she will reveal

To you the future and disclose

The secrets of life and death.