THE GARDEN OF JANUS 
43 
 
XXVII 
 
This thought I bred within my bowels, I am. 
 I am in him, as he in me ;   
And like a satyr ravishing a lamb 
 So either seems, or as the sea 
Swallows the whale that swallows it, the ram 
 Beats its own head 
Upon the city walls, that fall as it falls dead. 
 
XXVIII 
 
Come, let me back unto the lilied lawn !   
 Pile me the roses and the thorns 
Upon this bed from which he hath withdrawn !   
 He may return.  A million morns 
May follow that first dire dæmonic dawn 
 When he did split 
My spirit with his lightnings and enveloped it !   
 
XXIX 
 
So I am stretched out naked to the knife, 
 My whole soul twitching with the stress 
Of the expected yet surprising strife, 
 A martyrdom of blessedness. 
Though Death came, I could kiss him into life ;   
 Though Life came, I 
Could kiss him into death, and yet nor live nor die !   
 
XXX 
 
Yet I that am the babe, the sire, the dam, 
 Am also none of these at all ;