THE FATAL FORCE — 49
Even as the powers of ill,
Broken by the wanded will,
Shriek about the holy place, vain and vague and
terrible.
Even as the lords of hell,
Chained in fires before the spell,
Strain upon the sightless steel, break not fetters
nor compel.
So be distant, O profane!
Children of the hurricane !
Lest the sword of fire destroy, lest the ways of
death be plain!
So depart, and so be wise,
Lest your perishable eyes
Look upon the formless fire, see the maiden sacrifice !
So depart, and secret flame
Burn upon the stone of shame,
That the holy ones may hear music of the sleepless
Name!
Now the sacred and obscene
Kiss, the pure and the unclean
Mingle in the incense steaming up before the
goddess queen.
Holy, holy, holy spouse
Of the sun-engirdled house,
With the secret symbol burning on thy multiscient
brows!
D