“Crimson nor yellow roses nor The savor of the mounting sea Are worth the perfume I adore That clings to thee. The languid-headed lilies tire, The changeless waters weary me; I ache with passionate desire Of thine and thee. There are but these things in the world— Thy mouth of fire, Thy breasts, thy hands, thy hair upcurled And my desire.” PoetryPoemRobert W ChambersThe King In YellowRue Barree Book:Rue Barrée Source: Rue Barrée