Collected Works (Vol. III)

LIBER QUARTUS VEL MORTIS 213 The secret corruption of ages ORYPUREUS. Ye cling to, and hold as ye can, Apollo! And abandon the songs of the sages For Passion—and Pan ! O thou heart of hate and inmost terror! O thou soul of subtle fear and Just ! Loathsome shape of infamy, thy mirror Shown as spirit or displayed as dust ! O thou worm in every soul of matter Crawling, feasting, rotting; slime of hell ! Beat and batter! shear and shatter ! Break the egg that hides thee well! Pan! I call thee! Pan! I see thee in thy whirling citadel. I alone of all men may unveil thee, Show the ghastly soul of all that is Unto them, that they themselves may hail thee, Festering corruption of thy kiss! Thou the soul of God ! the soul of demon ! Soul of matter, soul of man! Show the gross fools, thine, that think them freemen, What thou art, and what thy heart, And what they are, that they are thee, All creation, whole and part, Thine and thee, near and far :— Come! I call thee, I who can. Pan! Iknowthee! Pan! I show thee! Burst thy cofhn open, Pan! What have I said? What have I done? M.-2ZNADS. Pan! Pan! Evoe, Iacche! Pan! AGAVE. The victim ! AUTONOE. Rend The sole pure thing in this impure gross lump, The shapeless, formless horror that is us And God—Ah! rend him limb from limb! This is the end of all. No power urges on. This is the night. No force detains. Iam free! Alas! alas !—Vurydice ! (He zs torn to pieces. A faint voice—like his—is still heard, ever receding andfailing.) O night |! Fade, love! Fade, light! I pass beyond Life’s law. I melt as snow; as ice I thaw; As mist I dissipate: I am borne, I draw Through chasms in the mountains: stormy gusts Ofancient sorrows and forgotten lusts Bear me along : they touch me not: I waste The memory of long lives interlaced Fades in my fading. I disintegrate, Fall into black oblivion of Fate. My being divides : I have forgot my name. I am blown out as a thin subtle flame. I am no more. A SPIRIT. What is? what chorus swells Through these dark gorges and untrodden dells ! What whisper through the forest? entwines The low song with the roses and the vines, The high song with the mountains and the pines, The inmost song with secret fibre of light, And in the boiling pools and quorns and chasms Chases the stryges, Death’s devote phantasms, Into a brilliant air wherein they are lost. Deep in the river moans the choral roar, Till the deep murmur of the Lesbian shore Washed of the luminous sea gives answer, while The angry wail of Nature doth beguile The hours, the wrath of Nature reft of one, The sole strong spirit that was Nature’s sun, The orb she circled round, the one thing clean From al] her gross machinery, obscene Far