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… unsung Of perfect love : thence grew the Mystic Rose. Its myriad petals of divided light ; Its leaves of the most radiant emerald ; Its heart of fire like rubies. At the sight I lifted up my heart to God and called : How shall I pluck this dream of my desire ? And lo ! there shaped itself the Cross of Fire ! O
…” N my distress I made complaint to Death : Thy shadow strides across the starry air ; Thou comest as a serpent unaware, Striking love’s heart and crushing out man’s breath : Thy destiny is even as God saith To mark the impotence of human prayer, Choke hope, sting all but Love ; and never care If man or flower or sparrow perisheth. Thee, I invoke thee, though no mercy move Thy heart ! No power is to thy hate assigned On love (sing, poets ! shrill, Pandean reeds !). But me, look on me, how my bosom bleeds— Invoke new power of cruelty ; be kind, …
…ul, you loose the torrent stream Of my desire, you make my lips your prize, And on them burns the whole life’s hope : you deem You buy a heart ; but I am well aware How my damnation dwells in that supreme Passion to feed upon your shoulders bare, And pass the dewy twilight of our sin In the intolerable flames of hair That clothe my body from your head ; you win The devil’s bargain ; I am yours to kill, Yours, for one kiss ; my spirit for your skin ! O bitter love, consuming all my will ! O love destroying, that hast drained my life Of all those…
…it is she, The soul of her love is in me ; Lithe kisses with music are curled. Like light on the meadows we dwell ; Like twilight clings heart unto heart ; Like midnight the depth of the spell Our love weaves, and stronger than hell The guards of our palace of art.
… lurking vampires battened, and my steel Has wrought its splendour through the gates of death. My courage did not falter : now I feel My heart beat wave-wise, and my throat catch breath As if I choked ; some horror creeps between The spirit of my will and its desire, Some just reluctance to the Great Unseen That coils its nameless terrors, and its dire Fear round my heart ; a devil cold as ice Breathes somewhere, for I feel his shudder take T
THE HOLY OF HOLIES. 121 And shroud all earth in masterless eclipse, While my heart’s murmur through thy being flows, To carry up the prayer, as incense teems Skyward, to those immeasurable streams ! Breathe the creative Sign upon my mouth That even the body may become the soul : Cry, as the chained Eagle of the South, “ A house of death,” and make my spirit whole ! Touch with pure balm the five mysterious wounds ! Come ! come away ! but not your mighty sounds ! O wind of all the world ! O silent river ! O sea of seas ! O flower of all the flowe…
THE GATE OF THE SANCTUARY. 61 The king was silent. None of us would stir. I sat, struck dumb, a living sepulchre. For—hear me ! in my heart this thing became My sacrament, my pentecostal flame. And with it grew a fear—a fear of Her. What Her ? Shame had not found itself a name. Simply I knew it in myself. I brood Ten years—so seemed it—O ! the bitter food In my mouth nauseate ! In the silent hall One might have heard God’s sparrow in its fall. But I was lost in mine own solitude— I should not hear Mikhael’s trumpet-call. Yet there did grow a cl…
…yes ! let fancy sup That grislier banquet than old Atreus planned ! Mind cannot fathom, nor the brain conceive, Nor soul assimilate, nor heart believe The horror of that Thing without a Name. Full on me, boasting, like Death’s hand it came, And struck me headlong. Linger, while I weave The web of mine old agony and shame. A little shadow of that hour of mine Touches thy heart ? Fill up the foaming wine, And listen for a little ! How profound Strikes memory keen-fanged ; memory, the hound That tracks me yet—a shiver takes my spine At one half-hi…
…atch his low call ; and now a song complains. The bridge is bleeding and the river hears. Ah ! God ! I cannot live for pity deep Of that heart-quelling chant—I could not sleep Ever again to think of it. I close My hearing with my fingers. Gently goes A quivering foot above them as they weep— I weep, I also, as the river flows. Slowly the bridge subsides, and I am flung Deep in the tears and terrors never sung. I swim with sorrow bursting at my breast. Yet I am cleansed, and find some little rest. Still from my agonised unspeaking tongue Breaks …
…ing and straight. She pointed to the East with flashing eyes : “ Thou canst not see her—but my Queen shall rise.” Bowed head and beating heart, with feet unsure I passed her, trembling, for she was too pure. I could have loved her. No : she was too wise. Her presence was too gracious to endure. “ She did not bid me go and chain me to her,” I cried, comparing. Then, my spirit knew her For One beyond all song—my poor heart turned : Then, ’tis no wonder. And my passion burned Mightier yet than ever. To renew her Venom from those pure eyes ? And ye…
THE COURT OF THE PROFANE. 23 Absorb her eyelids’ lazy light, And read her bosom to devise Fresh blossoms of the heart of hell, And secret joys of Jezebel. Her lips are fastened to my breast To suck out blood in feverish tides ; The token of her I possessed Still on my withered cheek abides. Thus slowly the desire grows To kill and have her yet—who knows ?
…cruel savour of thy lust lies there, That blood may tinge thy kisses unaware To fill thy children with the hope of Hell. O evil beauty ! Heart of mystery Wherein my being toils, and in the blood Mixed with thy poison finds its subtle food, Intoxicating my divinity ! Disdainful hands behind thee, I may take What joys I will—but thou wilt not awake. L
…O emerald star, deep beauty’s avatar, Are thy skies dim ? What throne is thine above ? Where is the crown of thee—thy sevenfold star, My heart of love ? Then from the clinging mist there came a singing, A dirge re-echoes to the poet prayer : “ I am their child to whom thy soul is clinging, I am Despair ! ”
28 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. WEDLOCK. A SONNET. SAW the Russian peasants build a ring Of glowing embers of the bubbling pine. In the green heart o’ th’ salamander line They scatter roses. Now the youngsters spring Within, who with hard-shut eyes hope to bring From out the fiery circle one divine Blossom of rose, as from a poisonous mine Gold comes to gird the palace of a king. Envious I sprang—and found the last rose gone. So in the fiery ring of wedlock, blind, Mad, one may leap, no rose perhaps to find (Or, if no rose, good fortune finds no thorn),…
…ad queens unite in desperate, Unsatisfied, unholy song. O Khephra, manifest in flesh, Arise, create the world afresh ! The silence of my heart is one With memory’s insatiate night ; T
…ly thy victorious sword ! Wagner ! creator of a world of light As beautiful as God’s, bend down to me, And whisper me the secrets of thy heart, That I may follow and dispel the night, And fight life through, a comrade unto thee, Under Love’s banner with the sword of Art ! O
…ight ; My soul is filled with the eternal love ; I am the brother of the Day and Night. I AM ! my spirit, and perhaps my mind ! But O my heart ! I left thy love behind ! W
…, Thou art, alone, In many forms and faces manifest ! Thou, stronger than the universe, Thy throne ! Thou, calm in strength as the sea’s heart at rest ! ” But I have also answered : “ Let the groan Of this Thy world reach up to Thee, and wrest Thy bloody sceptre : let the wild winds own Man’s lordship, and obey at his behest ! ” Man has two minds : the first beholding all, As from a centre to the endless end : The second reaches from the outer wall, And seeks the centre. This I comprehend. But in the first : “ I can—but what is worth ? ” And in…
…word. Like to a star, deep beauty’s avatar Pales in the dusky skies so far above : Seven rays of gladness crown its passionate star, One heart of love. The fringing trees, marge of deep-throated seas, Move as I walk : like spectres whispering The spaces of them : let me leave the trees— It is not spring ! Spring—no ! but dying autumn fast and flying, Sere leaves and frozen robins in my breast ! There is the winter—were I sure in dying To find some rest ! 1 This poem is partially composed on Mr. Poe’s scheme of verse–vide “ The Philosophy of Com…
…, worship, will, and comprehend. O Mother Nephthys, fill me up Thine own perfection’s deadly cup ! My aspiration quails within me ; “ My heart is fixed,” in vain I cry ; The little loves and whispers win me : “ Eli, lama sabacthani ! ” O Chomse, moon-god, grant thy boon, The silver pathway of the moon ! Beyond the Glory of the Dawn, Beyond the Splendour of the Sun, Thy secret Spirit is withdrawn, The plumes of the Concealéd One. Amoun ! upon the Cross I cry, I am Osiris, even I ! O Thou ! the All, the many-named, The One in many manifest !