Explore "The Flowers of Evil" by Charles Pierre Baudelaire on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ah, when thou shalt slumber, my darkling love, / Beneath a black marble-made statuette, / And when thou'lt have nought for thy house or alcove, / But a cavernous den and a damp oubliette.
When the tomb-stone, oppressing thy timorous breast, / And thy hips drooping sweetly with listless decay, / The pulse and desires of mine heart shall arrest, / And thy feet from pursuing their adventurous way,