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Page 1 of 11898 · PDF PAGE 17
XI. As life burns strong, the spirit’s flames grows dull ; The ruddy-cheeked sea-breezes shame its spark ; Wan rainy winds of autumn on the dark Leafless and purple moors, that rage and lull With a damned soul’s despair, these leave their mark, Their brand of fire That burns the dross, that wings the heart to its desire. XII. No prostitution may be shunned by him Who would achieve this Heaven. No satyr-song, No maniac dance shall ply so fast the thong Of lust’s imagining perversely dim That no man’s spirit may keep pace, so strong Its pang must…
1898 · PDF PAGE 10
“ Six months and I sit still and hold In two cold palms her cold two feet ; Her hair, half grey, half ruined gold, Thrills me and burns me in kissing it. Love bites and stings me through to see Her keen face made of sunken bones, Her worn-out eyelids madden me, That were shot through with purple once.” SWINBURNE, “ The Leper,” Poems and Ballads, 1866.
1898 · PDF PAGE 15
…may gain ; This is the lasting ecstasy of pain That fools reject, the dread, the searching fire That quivers in the marrow, that in vain Burns secretly The unconsuméd bush where God lurks privily. 1 5