Gargoyles

So he of politics; so I of love. I am a-many folk (let Buddha prove !) And many a month you fooled the lot of us— Your spell is cracked within the ring! Behold How Christ with clay worth more than any gold Cleared the man’s eyes! So the blind amorous Is blinded with the horror of the truth He sees this moment. Foolish prostitute! You slacked your kiss upon the sodden youth In some excess of confidence, decay Of care to hold him—can I tell you which? Down goes the moon—one sees the howling bitch ! The salmon you had hooked in fin and gill You reel unskilfully—he darts away. Alas! you devil, but you hold me still! III. O first and fairest of Earth’s darling daughters! How could I sing you?—you have always seemed Unto the saucy driveller as he dreamed Like a rich sunset seen on tropic waters— (Your eyes effulgent from a thousand slaughters 40