The Winged Beetle

62 AFTER JUDGMENT For while I praised the pearl-clear skin, The bright lithe body’s supple growth, By God ! I could not even begin To say one word about her mouth ! God ! hadst Thou given me that one word, I now might praise Thee, though Thou damn. But oh ! not ever a soul hath heard Its echo, O Thou great I Am ! Lo ! Thou hast made the winds, the stars, The sun, the moon, the great grave earth ; Thou has touched the swaying nenuphars With music, and made godly mirth With corn and wine ; Thou hast made Thee man ; Thou hast loved and suffered, died and risen ; But—hath Thy mouth grown white and wan, Sucked out into that strange sweet prison Nay, Thou hast never kissed the mouth Of Dorothy ! as I ! as I ! Thou hast never felt its eager growth Upon my Lesbian ecstasy. Therefore I curse Thee not, accurst Who art in that one flower foregone— And I the last match Thee the first When that red mouth I fasten on.