36 
THE GARDEN OF JANUS 
 
 
The sky in ’s galleon of amber, drawn 
 By singing winds 
While we wove garlands of the flowers of our minds. 
 
IV 
 
All day my lover deigned to murder me, 
 Linking his kisses in a chain 
About my neck ;  demon-embroidery !   
 Bruises like far-off mountains stain 
The valley of my body of ivory !   
 Then last came sleep. 
I wake, and he is gone ;  what should I do but weep ?   
 
V 
 
Nay, for I wept enough—more sacred tears !— 
 When first he pinned me, gripped 
My flesh, and as a stallion that rears 
 Sprang, hero-thewed and satyr-lipped ;   
Crushed, as a grape between his teeth, my fears ;   
 Sucked out my life 
And stamped me with the shame, the monstrous word of  
wife. 
 
VI 
 
I will not weep ;  nay, I will follow him. 
 Perchance he is not far, 
Bathing his limbs in some delicious dim 
 Depth, where the evening star 
May kiss his mouth, or by the black sky’s rim 
 He makes his prayer 
To the great serpent that is coiled in rapture there.