The Winged Beetle

40 THE GARDEN OF JANUS XVII Then did I build an altar on the shore Of oyster-shells, and ringed it round With star-fish. Thither a green flame I bore Of phosphor foam, and strewed the ground With dew-drops, children of my wand, whose core Was trembling steel Electric that made spin the universal Wheel. XVIII With that a goat came running from the cave That lurked below the tall white cliff. Thy name ! cried I. The answer that he gave Was but one tempest-whisper—“ If ! ” Ah, then ! his tongue to his black palate clave ; For on Soul’s curtain Is written this one certainty that naught is certain ! XIX So then I caught that goat up in a kiss, And cried Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Then all this body’s wealth of ambergris (Narcissus-scented flesh of man !) I burnt before him in the sacrifice ; For he was sure— Being the Doubt of Things, the one thing to endure ! XX Wherefore, when madness took him at the end, He, doubt-goat, slew the goat of doubt ;