White Stains

126 ‘ ‘ ² Åü¿Â Yon horrid panther snarls. His eye inspires Fresh torments, to invade my soul with fires Too angry to assuage, and in its glass I see myself. I hate myself, alas ! More than all these. I cannot rid me of Myself, my hates, my tortures, or my love ; My golden-haired Greek goddess, who divines In me a god, who cannot read the lines Of anguish on my forehead, neither scent The poison of breast, blood, and excrement ! I gnash my teeth in impotent despair That I may never hold her heavenly hair Again, nor bite her lips, as once my teeth Met in her cheek, to cull a rosy wreath Of blood upon it, nor assuage the pangs Of love with hardy limbs, and dolorous fangs, And sweating body, crimsoning with gore, As her mad mouth devoured me. Never more Though years decay ! With them my blood decays, My bones rot inwardly, the venomed days Sink shaft on shaft of agony, the years Bring new distortions, miseries, and fears ; New torture to my spirit, and forgot Of God, and health, and loveliness, I rot.