Give Me Your Self One Hour; I Do Not Crave For Any Love, Or Even Thought, Of Me. Come, As A Sultan May Caress A Slave And Then Forget For Ever, Utterly. Come! As West Winds, That Passing, Cool And Wet, O'Er Desert Places, Leave Them Fields In Flower And All My Life, For I Shall Not Forget, Will Keep The Fragrance Of That Perfect Hour!