THE WILD ASS 
161 
 
So climb, each ledge an infinite stress, 
 
Lustful as light, as lechery loth, 
From the brutality of Besz 
 
To the plumed perjury of Thoth !   
 
I held him holy.  Holier both 
 
Than aught the bearers of the bier, 
Thoum-aesh-neith and Auramoth, 
 
Saw in the hiding-house of fear. 
 
The sorceries that span the sphere, 
 
The spells that harness star and sun, 
I whispered in his siren ear— 
 
Once, twice, and thrice for every one !   
 
Once, twice, and thrice—the boon’s begun !   
 
With four and five and six it stirs :   
With seven the druid dance is done, 
 
And Death drives home his silver spurs !   
 
Then—the last leap.  What crowning curse 
 
Can bid that cup of curses brim ?   
How may God’s maniac ministers 
 
Lash the last langour out of Him ?   
 
I did it.  How ?  So great and grim 
 
The Gods are, I may never guess. 
Suffice it, on his mouth I swim 
 
A drowning dastard.  The caress