Vain are the light and laughter of man’s rhyme,
Vain the large hymns, and soaring songs and psalters !
My face, my breast, .no soul of man uncovers,
Nor is my bed made lovely with my lovers!
I long for purple and the holier kiss
Of mortal lyrist ; in these arms to gladden ;
To take him to the spring and source of bliss,
And in his vast embrace to rouse me, madden
Once with the light of passion, not to miss
Uttermost rapture till the sweet loves sadden
To sweeter peace thrilled with young ecstasy—
Ah! man’s high spirit may not reach to Me!
Iam Nature and God: I reign, I am, alone.
None other may abide apart: they perish,
Drawn into me, into my being grown.
None other bosom is, to bear, to nourish,
To be: the heart of all beneath my zone
Of blue and gold is scarlet-bright to cherish
My own’s life being, that is, and is not other ;
For I am God and Nature and thy Mother.
I am the thousand-breasted milky spouse,
Virginal also: Tartarus and Gaia
Twinned in my womb, and Chaos from my brows
Shrank back abashed, my sister dark and dire,
Mother of Erebus and Night, that ploughs
With starry-sandalled feet the fields of fire ;
My sister shrank and fell, the infernal gloom
Changed to the hot sweet shadow of my womb.
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