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Lettered lower center: "In happy copulation; if in evening mild, wearied with work; Sit on a bank and draw the pleasures of this free born joy. | The moment of desire! the moment of desire! The virgin That pines for man; shall awaken her womb to enormous joys In the secret shadows of her chamber; the youth shut up from The lustful joy, shall forget to generate, & create an amorous image In the shadows of his curtains and in the folds of his silent pillow. Are not these the places of religion? the rewards of continence! The self enjoyings of self denial? Why dost thou seek religion? Is it because acts are not lovely, that thou seekest solitude, Where the horrible darkness is impressed with reflections of desire. | Father of Jealousy, be thou accursed from the earth! Why hast thou taught my Theotormon this accursed thing? Till beauty fades from off my shoulders darken'd and cast out, A solitary shadow wailing on the margin of non-entity. | I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind! Can that be Love, that drinks another as a sponge drinks water? That clouds with jealousy his nights, with weepings all the day: To spin a web of age around him, grey and hoary! dark! Till his eyes sicken at the fruit that hangs before his sight. Such is self-love that envies all! a creeping skeleton With lamplike eyes watching around the frozen marriage bed. | But silken nets and traps of adamant will Oothoon spread, And catch for the girls of mild silver, or of furious gold; I'll lie beside thee on a bank & view their wanton play In lovely copulation bliss on bliss with Theotormon; Red as the rosy morning, lustful as the first born beam, Oothoon shall view his dear delight, nor e'er with jealous cloud Come in the heavens of generous love; nor selfish blightings bring. | Does the sun walk in glorious raiment, on the secret floor"; on verso: "Where the cold miser spreads his gold? or does the bright cloud drop On his stone threshold? does his eye behold the beam that brings Expansion to the eye of pity? or will he bind himself Beside the ox to thy hard furrow? does not that mild beam blot The bat, the owl, the glowing tyger, and the king of night. The sea fowl takes the wintry blast. for a cov'ring to her limbs: And the wild snake, the pestilence to adorn him with gems & gold. And trees. & birds. & beasts, & men. behold their eternal joy. Arise you little glancing wings, and sing your infant joy! Arise and drink your bliss. For everything that lives is holy! | Thus every morning wails Oothoon. but Theotormon sits Upon the margind ocean conversing with shadows dire. | The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, & eccho back her sighs. | The End"