Love returns on Saturdays, Having been away To labor in the labyrinth That underlies our joy. How dark the days of abstinence, Of sleep too dire to stay, Of mornings mere mechanical And flesh no hands employ! But then--Ah, then!--on Saturdays Love finally has its way, Coming into crevices Whose cravings passions buoy. How beautiful, the love that can Such soporifics sway! No wasteland world of weekdays shall Our dalliance destroy!