Oracles

46 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 poinard-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 With vine and myrtle and thy flower, my harlot-maiden, who for man Now first forsakest thy leman, thy Eve, my Lilith, in this bower