The Winged Beetle

30 THE WIZARD WAY She hath naked breasts of amber Jetting wine in her bed-chamber Whereof whoso stoops and drinks Rees the riddle of the Sphinx. She hath naked limbs of amber Whereupon her children clamber. She hath five navels rosy-red From the five wounds of God that bled ; Each wound that mothered her still bleeding, And on that blood her babes art feeding. Oh ! like a rose-winged pelican She hath bred blessed babes to Pan ! Oh ! like a lion-hued nightingale She hath torn her breast on thorns to avail The barren rose-tree to renew Her life with that disastrous dew, Building the rose o’ the world alight With music out of the pale moonlight ! O She is like the river of blood That broke from the lips of the bastard god, When he saw the sacred mother smile On the ibis that flew up the foam of Nile Bearing the limbs unblessed, unborn, That the lurking beast of Nile had torn ! So (for the world is weary) I These dreadful souls of sense lay by. I sacrifice these impure shoon To the cold ray of the waning moon. I take the forked hazel staff,