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…r drink, still poison; for thy kiss, A serpent's lips ! An agony is this That sweats out venom; thy clenched hands, thy feet Ooze blood, thine eyes weep blood, thine anguish is More keen than death. At last—there is no deeper vault of hell beneath ! 1 8
… comprehend. Accept this gospel of disease In wanton words proclaimed, receive The blood-wrought chaplet that I weave. Take me, and with thine infamies Mingle my shame, and on my breast Let thy desire achieve the rest. Midnight, 1897—1898.
XV. Then thine abasement bringeth back the sheaves Of golden corn of exaltation, Ripened and sweetened by the very sun Whose far-off fragrance steals between the leaves Of the cool forest, filling every one That reaps yon gold With strange intoxications mad and manifold. XVI. Only beware gross pleasure—the delight Of fools : the ecstasy, the trance of love— Life's atom-bonds must strain—aye, and most move, And all the body be forgotten quite, And the pure soul flame forth, a deathless dove, Where all worlds end ! If thou art worthy God shall gr…
…all myself to thee, Slip into thy caresses as of right, Live in thy kisses as in living light, Clothing in thy love, enthronéd lazily In thine embrace, as naked as the night, As love and lover More pure, more keen, more strong than all my dreams discover. 2 7