White Stains

ODE TO VENUS CALLIPYGE 59 Deep wet eyes that are violet-blue ! Haggard cheeks that may blush no more ! Body bruised daintily, touched of gore Where the sharp fierce teeth have bitten through The olive skin that thy sons adore, That they die for daily, are slain anew By manifold hate ; for their tale is few. Few are thy sons, but as fierce as dawn, Rapturous moments and weary days, Nights when thine image a thousand ways Is smitten and kissed on the fiery lawn Where the wash of the waves of thy native bays Laps weary limbs, that of thee have drawn Laughter and fire for their souls in pawn. O thy strong sons ! they are dark as night, Cruel and barren and false as the sea, They have cherished Hell for the love of thee, Filled with thy lust and abundant might, Filled with the phantom desire to free Body and soul from the sound and sight Of a world and a God that doth not right.