When Thy Will Stung the World Into Strife

Dost thou dream, in a respite of slumber, In a lull of the fires of thy life, Of the days without name, without number, When thy will stung the world into strife; When, a goddess, the pulse of thy passion Smote kings as they revelled in Rome; And they hailed thee re-risen, O Thalassian, Foam-white, from the foam? Dragons blood resin, red ginger, bourbon geranium, thorny rosemary, red sandalwood, pink pepper, and green coffee bean.