Orpheus

Is not some justice somewhere? Where is he Hateful to God and man, a misery To his own vileness by exceeding it, Who crawls God-cursed throughout eternity? Nay! sure he lives, and licks his slavered lips, Laughing to think how the sweet morsel slips, The breast-flower of my bride; the dainty bit Fit for—ah God! the pearl-smooth blossom drips Poisonous blood that will not poison me, Though I drink deep its fierce intensity. My lips closed silent on her bosom’s light, The stung blood springs—like pearls beneath the sea Whose moony glimmer hath a purple vein Hidden—so I athirst of the sad stain Drink up her body’s life, as if to spite Its quiet, as if the venom were to drain Into my life—that hurts me not at all, Struck by a stronger buffet: let me call All deaths! they come not, seeing I am broken In this one horror where a man may fall. I am alive, and live not: I am dead, And die not: on my desolated head No dew may drop, no word of God be spoken, None heard, if by some chance some word be said. : 12]