CHICAGO MAY
‘True self is to all life immune
As is the sun's self to the moon,
‘Yet this, that is not love, corrodes
‘That self, or clouds it. Lead me far
From earth to the unmoved abodes
‘That lie beyond the utmost star!
Ah, no! the martyr asks his Lord
For martyrdom as his reward.
Give me my pain, and let me keep
My love! T have no fear to lose
My hate: While now she lies asleep,
T have one moment's power to choose.
I choose the cross. My love shall gain
‘The price of all my Judas-pain.
Il
Pure hate is like pure love, a calm, a flow
Of the pure spirit in a single stream;
No wave disturbs its depth ; no gleam or glow
Of any light dares break on its supreme
Annihilation of all less desires,
‘One dark fire that absorbs all shining fires.
So I lie still, and hate, and hate, and hate
This guzzling sow with the loose bulging belly
And sagging teats, whom fate has made my mate,
1g mass of nastiness, this jelly