White Stains

VICTORY 103 And I, between the wastes of sand In one great harbour by a well, Met thee, princess of such a band Of merchantmen ; my curvèd brand Then was raised high, as wild of yell, We flashed and charged, and slew thy folk ; Thou camest to my bed to dwell— That day there clanged the gates of hell Behind us twain ; we never spoke Save of love’s bidding we might do, Save on our lust to place a yoke Too bitter to be lightly broke. Each might we drew on, and something new Of lust we learnt, insatiate we Who wrote in blood the volumes through That speak of love. But then there grew A giant lust, strong as the sea ; And we with fresh delight assayed The fierce sweet bond of tribady, The strange strong sin of sodomy,