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← Songs of the Spirit
1898 · CLOSE READING

Songs of the Spirit

Songs of the Spirit (1898), PDF p. 93

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Accurst, detestable, In which I laugh with hell, And furies chant the knell Of all things clean. Ah God ! the shapes that throng ! Ah God ! what eyes ! The souls grown sharp and strong That my lips made their prize, The ruined souls, the wrecks Of bodies fair of flecks Long since, ere God did vex My soul with sacrifice. Pale youth and bloodless maiden Whose breasts have bled, With wrath or mercy laden, By love or terror led, Reproachful or reviling, Some pure and some defiling, Some fearful and some smiling, Some living and some dead. 83
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