Oracles

36 ODE TO VENUS CALLIPYGE Deep wet eyes that are violet-blue ! Haggard cheeks that may blush no more ! Body bruised daintily, touch of gore Where the sharp fierce teeth have bitten through The olive skin that thy sons adore, That they die for daily, are slain anew By manifold hate ; for their tale is few. Few are thy sons, but as fierce as dawn. Sweet are the seconds, weary the days. Nights ? Ah ! thine image a thousand ways Is smitten and kissed on the fiery lawn Where the wash of the waves of thy native bays Laps weary limbs, that of thee have drawn Laughter and fire for their souls in pawn. O thy strong sons they are dark as night, Cruel and barren and false as the sea. They have cherishèd Hell for the love of thee, Filled with thy lust and abundant might, Filled with the phantom desire to free Body and soul from the sound and sight Of a world and a God that doth not right. O thy dark daughters ! their breasts are slack, Their lips so large and as poppies red ; They lie in a furious barren bed ; They lie on their faces ; their eyelids lack Tears, and their cheeks are as roses dead ; White are their throats, but upon the back Red blood is clotted in gouts of black.