The Mother’s Tragedy

36 THE FATAL FORCE Is broken, and the balance of her mind Made one with the fool’s bauble, and her wand, That was of steel and fire, like a reed, snapped! PACHAD. So lived my father. Tell me of his death. AMENHATEP. At thy first breath the gods were patient still, Till the abomination filled its cup, And hatred took her heart. She slew thy sire, And made his body the banquet of her sin In the infernal temple. “So,” she said, ‘‘T reap the incarnation of the god.” So, gloomy and hideous, she would prowl about Seeking fresh human feasts, and bloody rites Stained the white altar of the world. And yet Her power is gone, and we behold her go, Haggard and weary, through the palace courts And through the temple, lusting for strange loves And horrible things, and thirsting for new steam Of thickening blood upon her altar steps. Her body wearies of desire, and fails To satisfy the fury of her spirit; The blood-feasts sicken her and yield no strength ; She is made one with hell, and violent force Slips and is weakness, and extreme desire Spends supple. }