One kiss is hers full rank and red— Do you sip at her lip? Hell hangs on her fangs ! She loves; love laughs at pity! Then who will up to taste her mouth? Who on her mount and ride? Look to the North, the West, the South! There is carnage vulture-eyed. Then who will suck the breath of death, The swift and glittering bride ? The bride that clings as a snare with springs To the warrior’s stricken side? A shudder struck the hidden men As the maniac’s mouthings ceased. Then, kindling, rose a roar: ‘‘ Spread, spread the furtive feast ! The wine of agony pour! The fruit of valour pluck! The meat of murder suck! ‘* Sweet are the songs of her throat ! Soft are the strokes of her fan! 83