92 
THE BLOOD-LOTUS 
 
Their song is in my ears, that burn with their melodious 
wickedness ; 
But in her heart my sorceress has songs more sinful, 
that I learn 
 
As she sings slowly all their shame, and makes me 
tingle with delight 
At new debaucheries, whose might rekindles blood and 
bone to flame. 
 
The circle gathers.  Negresses howl in the naked 
dance, and wheel 
On poniard-blades of poisoned steel, and weep out 
blood in agonies ; 
 
Strange beast and reptile writhe ;  the song grows high 
and melancholy now ; 
The perfume savours every brow with lust unutterable 
of wrong ; 
 
Clothed with my flower-bride I sit, a harlot in a 
harlot’s dress,  
And laugh with careless wickedness that strews the 
broad road of the Pit