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Page 1 of 11898 · PDF PAGE 21
JEZEBEL 17 EPILOGUE. TO die amid the blossoms of the frost On far fair heights ; to sleep the quiet sleep Of dead men underneath the snowy steep Of many mountains ; ever to have lost These cares and these distrusts ; to lie alone, Watched by the distant eagles drowsy wing, Stars and grey summits, and the winds that sing Slow dirges in eternal monotone. Such is my souls desire, being weary of This vain eternity of sleepless dreams That is my life ; withal there still may be In other worlds, the hope of other love Than this that floods my veins…
1898 · PDF PAGE 16
12 JEZEBEL Take me, or break me, slay or sooth to sleep, If only yours one hour, one perfect hour, Remembrance and despair and hope to steep In the infernal potion of that flower, My poisonous passion for your blood ! Behold ! How utterly I yield, how gladly dower Our sin with my own spirits quenched gold, Clothe Love with my own souls immortal power, Give thee my body as a fire to hold O love, no words, no songsyour breast my bower !
1898 · PDF PAGE 8
…d-fanged hatred in me glows, I lust for her, and hell, and death. I see that ghastly look, and yearn Toward the brands of her that burn. Sleep shuns me ; dreams divide the night, (My parched throat thirsty for her veins) That she and I with deep delight Suck from deaths womb infernal pains, Whose fire consumes, destroys, devours Through nights insatiable hours. And altogether filled with love, And altogether filled with sin, The little sparks and noises move About the softness of her skin. Her pleasures and her passions purr For the delight I…
1898 · PDF PAGE 11
…concealed, For shames sake and for loves no less. Night falls ; the gaping crowds abide No longer by her stiffening side. I crept like sleep toward the place That held for me her evil head ; I bent like sin above her face That dying she might kiss me dead. I whispered Jezebel ! She turned, And her deep eyes with hatred burned. Ah ! prophet, come to mock at me And gloat on mine exceeding pain ? Nay, but to give my soul to thee, And have thee spit at me again ! She smiledI know she smiledshe sighed, Bit my lips through, and drank,…
1898 · PDF PAGE 6
…lare The eyes of fiends. I thought I heard An evil laugh, a mocking word. The gates swing open at the Name, Without a warder roused from sleep ; I pass, with face of burning flame, That is not quenched, although I weep. (For even my tears are tears of fire, For loathing, madness, and desire.)