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14 matching pages
Page 1 of 11901 · PDF PAGE 44
…-rays lean To fan their silver ship. No sleep, but precious kisses In those pale wildernesses, Mark the dead hours of night, No sleep so sweet as this is, Whose pulse of purple blisses Beats calm and cool and light. No life so fair with roses, No day so swift to close is ; No cushion so reposes Fair love so sweet and slight. Sleep greets the morn and takes us ; The wood that wonders makes us Soft noises heard above. The sunny snake forsakes us, The noon sun lastly wakes us, To watch the wooing dove ; And day draws on delighted To leave us there…
1901 · PDF PAGE 19
…Dead kisses to the swooning deep. Upsoars the moon ; the flashing steep Of heaven is fragrant for her feet ; The perfume of the grove is sweet As slumbering women furtive creep To bosoms where small kisses weep, And find in fervent dreams the kiss Most memoried of Artemis. Impenetrable pleasure dies Beneath the madness of new dreams ; The slow sweet breath is turned to sighs More musical than many streams Under the moving silver beams,
1901 · PDF PAGE 18
…. But horned and huntress from the skies, She bends her lips upon the breeze, And pure and perfect in her eyes, Burn magical virginity’s Sweet intermittent sorceries. When the slow wind from her sweet word In all their conchéd ears is heard. And like the slumber of the seas, There murmur through the holy trees The kisses of the goddess keen, And sighs and laughters caught between.
1901 · PDF PAGE 131
…my spiritual desire ! O luminous master of the silver feet ! O passionate rose of infinite white fire ! O cross of sacrifice made bitter-sweet ! O wide-wing, star-brow, veritable lord ! O mystic bearer of the flaming sword ! O brows half see, O visionary star Seen in the fragrant breezes of the East ! O lover of my love, O avatar Of the All-One, O mystical High Priest ! O thou before whose eyes my weak eyes fail, Wonderful warden of the Holy Grail ! O thou, mine angel, whom these eyes have seen, These hands have handled, and this mouth has kiss…
1901 · PDF PAGE 29
… and her feet Black as the wind of frost ; but oh ! her face ! Whoso may know it is no more a man, But walks with God, and sees the Lady sweet Whose body was the vehicle of grace. III. Eternal beauty in eternal truth, Isis ! And Thoth, the scribe of destiny, And Mary’s excellent virginity ! Ye are the witness of the ageless youth That crowns the sonnet. In your wondrous eyes Lie hidden all the secrets of the world, And as the lightning of your look is hurled So glean I something of life’s harmonies. Look then upon me ! Let my insight pierce The…
1901 · PDF PAGE 68
… wise. My lips are fervent, as in prayer, Thy lips are parted, as to kiss : My hand is clenched upon the air, Thy hand’s soft touch, how sweet it is ! M
1901 · PDF PAGE 42
…th whose sombre shade I hold a lazy maid In chaste arms and too tender. Lo ! she is fair ! God said ; And saw through the deep glade How sweet she was and slender. But I—could I behold her Curved shapeliness of shoulder ?
1901 · PDF PAGE 127
…te. O thou belovéd blood, that wells and weeps ! O thou belovéd mouth, that beats and bleeds ! O mystic bosom where some serpent sleeps, Sweet mockery of a thousand saintlier creeds ! Even I, that breathe your perfume, taste your breath, Know, even this hour, ye are not life, but death ! No death ye bring more godlike than desire, When seas roar tempest-lashed, and foam is flung Raging on pitiless crags, and gloomy fire Lurks in the master-cloud ; corpses are swung Helpless and horrible in trough and crest— That death were music, and the lord o…
1901 · PDF PAGE 69
…nk gently to the leopard’s skin ! I must not stoop and take my ease, Or touch the body lithe and thin. Bright body of the myriad smiles, Sweet serpent of the lower life, The smooth silk touch of thee defiles, The lures and languors of a wife. Slip to the floor, I must not turn : There is a lion in the way ! The star of morning rise and burn : I seek the dim supernal day ! Sleep there, nor know me gone : sleep there And never wake, although God’s breath Catch thee at midmost of the prayer Of sleep—that so dream turns to death.
1901 · PDF PAGE 100
…on portals on the folk of day. Yet for the children of the night they play Like fountains in the moonlight : for the few, The sorrowful, sweet faces of the dew, The laughter-loving daughters of the dawn, Whose moving feet make tremble all the lawn S
1901 · PDF PAGE 37
…ng her out to death. I think I died that moment. He, Foaming for vengeance and blood-lust, Laughed his coarse laugh of hideous glee. Her sweet bad body in the dust He trampled. Royal from the womb, A martyred murderess lacks a tomb ! A tigress woman, clad with sin, And shod with infamy, who pressed The bloody winepress of my skin, And plucked the purple of my breast— Her lovers in their hearts shall keep Her memory passionate and deep. They cast her forth on Naboth’s field Still living, in her harlot’s dress ; Her belly stript, her thighs conce…
1901 · PDF PAGE 52
40 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. Oh, fragrant the breeze is that stirs The grasses around us that lean ! Oh, sweet is the whisper that purrs From those wonderful lips that are hers, From the passionate lips of a queen. A queen is my lover, I say, With a crown of the lilies of light— For a maiden they crowned her in May, For the Queen of the Daughters of Day That are flowers of the forest of Night. They crowned her with lilies and blue, They crowned her with yellow and roses, They gave her a sceptre of rue, And a girdle of laurel and yew, And a basket of …
1901 · PDF PAGE 84
72 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. Love is the lotus that is sickly sweet, That makes men drunken, and betrays their feet : Beauty, the sacred lotus : let me say The word, and make my purity complete. The whole is mine, and shall I keep a part ? O Beauty, I must see thee as thou art ! Then on my withered gaze that Beauty grew— Rosy quintessence of alchemic dew ! The Self-informing Beauty ! In my heart The many were united : and I knew. Smitten by Beauty down I fell as dead— So strikes the sunlight on a miner’s head. Blind, stricken, crushed ! That vast eff…
1901 · PDF PAGE 79
THE GATE OF THE SANCTUARY. 67 Jostlers and hurried folk and mad they are, A million actions and a single mind. “ What is thy purpose, sweet my lord ? ” I pressed One stalwart. “ Ah ! the quest,” he cried, “ the quest.” God’s heart ! the antics, as they toil and shove ! One grabs a coin, one life, another love. All shriek, “ The prize is mine ! ” as men possessed. I was not fooled at anything thereof. Rather I hated them, and scorned for slaves ; “ Fools ! all your treasure is at last the grave’s ! ” Mine eyes had fixed them on the sphinx, the s…