Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE COURT OF THE PROFANE 173 O mother, mother, mother, bend And shroud the world in mystery That secrets of our bed forbidden Cover their faces, and be hidden ! O steadfast, O mysterious bride ! O woman, O divine and dead ! O wings immeasurably wide! O star, O sister of my bed! O living lover, at my side Clinging, the spring, the fountain-head Of musical slow waters, white With thousand-folded rays of light ! Come! Once again I call, I call, I call, O perfect soul, to thee, With chants, and murmurs mystical, And whispers wiser than the sea : O lover, come to me! The pall Of night is woven : fair and free, Draw to my kisses; let thy breath Mingle for love the wine of death ! MADONNA OF THE GOLDEN Nicut brings madness; moonlight dips her throat to madden us; Love’s swift purpose darts, the flash of a striking adder. Love that kills and kisses dwells above to sadden us ; Dawn brings reason back and the violet eyes grows sadder. O Madonna of the Golden [yes ! Swooned the deep sunlight above the summer stream ; Droned the sleepy dragon-Hy by the water spring3 Stood we in the noeontide in a misty dream, Fearful of our voices, of some sudden thing. ; O Madonna of the Golden Eyes! Dared we whisper? Dared we lift our eyes to see there In their desperate depth some mutual flame of treason ? Dared we move apart? to be there, Nothing in the world might change the constant season. © Madonna of the Golden Eyes! So glad were we Did a breath of wind disturb the lazy day? Did a soul of fear flit phantom-wise across? suddenly we clasped and clave as spirit unto clay ; Suddenly love swooped to us as swoops the albatross. O Madonna of the Golden Eyes! Did thy hushand’s venom breathe on the trembling scale ? Did that voice corrupting cry across the midnight air? What decided? Gabriel may spin the foolish tale. What decided? We were lovers —- who should care? O Madonna of the Golden Eyes! [Tow we clave together! How we strained caresses ! How the swooning limbs sank fainting on the sward ! Kor the fiery dart raged fiercer ; in excesses Long restrained, it cried, ‘‘ Behold! I am. the Lord !” O Madonna of the Golden Eyes! Yes, we sat with modest eyes and murmur- ing lips Downeast at the table, while the husband drank his wine. 80 thy sly, slow hand stretched furtively; there slips Deadly in his throat the poison draught divine ! O Madonna of the Golden Eyes !