The Winged Beetle

146 THE SPHINX BENEATH the cruel splendid Sphinx My soul lies supine still, and drinks Damnation from the emerald eyes, Death from the painted mouth that dies As, drunk on life, she sucks it in ! O crimson masterpiece of sin, The mouth that maddens me and slays My youth in many molten ways ! All her adulterous ardours wake The god, the tiger, and the snake. I yield ; her soft, her strenuous breath Fills me and feeds my soul on death. O Sphinx, more sacred than the stars ! O beast ! O God ! thy passion chars This life. Beneath thy claws I writhe. For like a lion thou art lithe And like a bull exceeding strong. Thine eagle’s scream beats down my song. Ah slay me, slay me now ! Have done ! . . . The torture is but half begun.