14 
JEZEBEL 
Burnt in that shameful whirlwind of his ire, 
Consumed in one tall pyramid of fire 
Whose bowers of flame shall tell the sky of God 
How we despised his feet with thunder shod, 
And conquered, clasping, all the host of death. 
Turn to me, touch me, mix thy very breath 
With mine to mingle floods of fiery dew 
With flames of purple, like the sea shot through 
With golden glances of a fiercer star. 
Turn to me, bend above me, you may char 
These olive shoulders with an old-time kiss, 
And fix thy mouth upon me for such bliss 
Of sudden rage rekindled.  Turn again, 
And make delight the minister of pain, 
And pain the father of a new delight. 
And light a lamp of torture for the night 
Too grievous to be borne without a cry 
To rend the very bowels of the sky 
And make the archangel gasp—a sudden pang, 
Most like a traveller stricken by the fang 
Of the black adder whose squat head springs up, 
A flash of death, beneath a cactus cup. 
Ah turn !  my bosom for thy love is cold ; 
My arms are empty, and my lips can hold 
No converse with thee far away like this. 
O for that communing pregnant with a kiss 
That is reborn when lips are set together 
To link our souls in one desirous tether, 
And wield our very bodies into one. 
Ah fiend Jehovah, what then have we done 
To earn thy curse—is love like ours too strong 
To dwell before thee, and do thy throne no wrong ? 
Art thou grown jealous of the fiery band ? 
Lo !  thou hast spoken, and thy strong command 
Bade earth and air divide, and on the sea 
Thy spirit moved—and thou must envy me ! 
Gird all thy godhead to destroy a man 
Whose little moment is a single span, 
Whose small desire is nothing—and thy power