The cruel teeth, the steady sneer,
The marvellous lust of her, I bring
Unto my body bright and clear
(Dropped poison in a water spring!)
To fill me with the utmost sense
Of some divine experience.
For who but she, the adulterous queen,
Made earth and heaven with all its stars,
The storm, the hunger epicene,
The raging at invisible bars,
The hideous cruelty of the whole?—
These are of Kali, O my soul!
The sterile force of bronze and gold
Bends to my passion, as it grips
With feverish claws the metal cold,
And burns upon the brazen lips
That, parted like a poppy bud,
Have gemméd curves like moons of blood.
The mazes of her many arms
Delude the eye; they seem to shift
7o