THE PRINCESS OF PANORMITA 
49 
 
The grey cold slime of the snake 
 That her poisonous body held ?   
 
By night I ravished a maid 
 From her father’s camp to the cave. 
I bared the beautiful blade ;   
 I dipped her thrice i’ the wave ;   
I slit her throat as a lamb’s, 
 That the fount of blood leapt high 
With my clamorous dithyrambs 
 Like a stain on the shield of the sky. 
 
With blood and censer and song 
 I rent the mysterious veil : 
My eyes gaze long and long 
 On the deep of that blissful bale. 
My cold grey kisses awake 
 From the silence of utmost eld 
The grey cold slime of the snake 
 That her beautiful body held. 
 
But—God !  I was not content 
 With the blasphemous secret of years, 
The veil is hardly rent 
 While the eyes rain stones for tears. 
So I clung to the lips and laughter 
 As the storms of death abated, 
The storms of the grievous graft 
 By the swing of her soul unsated.