The Mother’s Tragedy

THE MOTHER AT THE SABBATH — 69 Fall down, my baby; worship him with me. There, go; I give you to his monster kisses! Take her, my God, my God, my infamy, My love, my master! take the fruit of me! —Shrieks every soul and every demon hisses ! Out! out! the ghastly torches of the feast! Let darkness hide us and the night discover The shameless mysteries of God grown beast, The nameless blasphemy, the sliméd East— Sin incarnated with a leprous lover! “Hoc est enim ”’—the victim! ah! my womb, My womb has borne the victim! Now I queen it To-night upon the damned—thy love makes room, My goat-head godhead, for my hecatomb ! I am thy mistress, and thy slaves have seen it ! Even as thy cold devouring kisses roll Over my corpse; I hear its death-cry thrill me! Thine !—O my God! I render thee the whole, My broken body and my accursed soul! Come, come, come, come! Ah! conquer me and kill me !