Maximillian Arnolfini to Lucretia Buonvisi

In El Dorado's forests, it is said,

There dwells a monstrous man-devouring flower,

Worshipped as a divinity; each hour,

From dawn to dusk, with some new victim fed.

Her beauty lures the wretch; her petals spread

Strange drowsy scents; sleep grasps him in its power;

Till iron tendrils, creeping nearer, lower,

Draw him, fast bound, as to a nuptial bed.

Even such art thou. Pale beauty, dost thou think

I know it not, or that I quail beneath

Thy baleful shade, and from thy kisses shrink?

I caught the fatal incense of thy breath,

And let my head in glorious freedom sink

On thy dread breast, thou worshipped flower of death.