White Stains

A PAEAN IN THE SPRINGTIDE 75 Heaven is bare and bleak, hell has the joys beyond Heaven, Fire and desire and delight, of a love that is always young ; Hell has the pains of hell, but the sweetest of lusts for leaven. Fierce body, breasts of delight, fearful and murderous tongue. Hell is the house of all delight, Heaven the home of a bitter blight ; Pain is our joy and our spirits’ power, Never shall fade its fiery flower. Now is the triumph of Love, gazing far to an infinite pleasure, Pleasure that mocks Heaven’s hopes, that our hands are impatient to hold. Love and delight pouring out, in a fearless insatiate measure, Out of the chalice of lust, scarlet o’errunning its gold. This is the song of the Spring, that the nightingales carol by starlight, This the delight of our eyes, as they shine with strange fire in the night,