Collected Works (Vol. III)

IMAGES OF DEATH 99 Death from the universal force Means to the forceless universe Birth. I accept the furious course, Invoke the all-embracing curse. Blessing and peace beyond may ie When I annihilate the “I.” Therefore, O holy mother, gnash Thy teeth upon my willing flesh ! Thy chain of skulls wild music clash ! Thy bosom bruise my own afresh ! Sri Maharani !} draw my breath Into the hollow lungs of death ! There is no light, nor any motion. There is no mass, nor any sound. Still, in the lampless heart of ocean, Fasten me down and hold me drowned Within thy womb, within thy thought, Where there is nought—where there is nought! THE JILT. ‘‘ WHO is that slinkard moping down the street, That youth—scarce thirty—bowed like sixty?” ‘* Oh, A woman jilted him.” ‘‘ Absurd!” ‘ Con- ceit ! Some youths take life—are Puritans, you know!” I heard it, sitting in the window—glowed, Rushed to my wife and kissed her. Lithe and young The rapture of some ardent madness flowed ; And — bye-and-bye —its miracle found tongue. Guess, guess the secret why I burn for you These years so cold to woman as I was! Guess why your laugh, your kiss, your touch run through My body, as it were a tunéd glass ! 1 Holy Queen-—one of the many thousand titles of the Goddess. You cannot guess ?—false devil that you are! To Cruelty’s add calm’s analysis ! You love me? Yes—then crown me a bearded Sar Bull-breasted by my sleek Semiramis !? Did you not hear those men below? spoke Of one I think you have forgotten long ; Talked of his ruined life—half as a joke— But I— But I—it is my whole heart’s song| They I love you when I think of his pale:lips Twitching, and all his curls of gold awry; Your smile of poison as he sighs and sips ; Your half-scared laughter as his heart- beats die— Let him creep on, a shattered, ruined thing ! A ship dismasted on a dreadful sea! And you—afar—some word of largesse fling Pitifully worded for more cruelty! His death lends savour to our passionate life ; His is the heart I taste upon your tongue; I1is death-spasms our love-spasms, my wife ; His death-songs are the love-songs that you sung ! Ah! Sweet, I love you as I see him stagger On with hell’s worm a-nuzzling to his heart, With your last letter, like a poisoned dagger, Biting his blood, burning his bones apart. Ah! Sweet, each kiss I drink from you is warm With the dear life-blood of a man—a man! The scent of murder lures me, like a charm Tied by some subtlety Canidian. Ay ! as you suck my life out into bliss, Its holier joy is in the deadlier thirst That drank his life out into the abyss Of torture endless, endless and accurst. 1 Queen of Assyria, famous for glory and debauchery. Sar is the royal title.