THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
55 
And my young lips to blow upon a reed, 
And my young body to assuage your drouth, 
And you shall sing that sacred orison, 
Sing, as that midnight when we wrought as one, 
When in one bed our bodies met at last 
And all the future kissed the dying past— 
O Kill me with the Purple of Your Mouth ! 
 
 
For Aphrodite sought in vain the woods, 
The silent mountains, and impetuous floods 
In all the world, nor had she knowledge of 
Such dens as him concealed ;  (for what should 
Love 
Know of such vile morasses ?) in despair 
Waved angry wings, and, floating through the air, 
Came unto Aphaca, lewd citadel 
Of strange new lusts and devilries of hell, 
Where god Priapus dwelt ;  to him she came— 
She, Love !—and, hiding her fair face for shame, 
Nor showing aught the quivering scorn that 
glowed 
Through all her body, her desire showed 
In brief sharp words, and the lewd god gave ear 
(For he shook terribly with bastard fear