1898 · CLOSE READING
White Stains
White Stains (1898), PDF p. 94
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88
THE BLOOD-LOTUS
To lure a soul to hell, to draw some saint’s charred
lust, to tempt, to win
Another sacrifice to sin, another poet’s heart to gnaw
With dubious remorse. Oh ! flame of torturing flower-
love ! sacrament
Of Satan, triple element of mystery and love and shame,
Green, gold, and crimson, in my heart you strive with
Jesus for its realm,
While Sorrow’s tears would overwhelm the warriors of
either part !
Jesus would lure me : from his side the gleaming torrent
of the spear
Withdraws, my soul with joy and fear waits for sweet
blood to pour its tide
Of warm delight—in vain ! so cold, so watery, so slack
it flows,
It leaves me moveless as a rose, albeit her flakes are
manifold.
He hath no scent to drive men mad ; no mystic
fragrance from his skin
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