THE GARDEN OF JANUS
I
Tue cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam.
The vault yet blazes with the sun
Writhing above the West, brave hippodrome
Whose gladiators shock and shun
As the blue night devours them, crested comb
Of sleep’s dead sea
That eats the shores of life, rings round eternity!
Il
So, he is gone whose giant sword shed flame
Into my bowels; my blood’s bewitched ;
My brain’s afloat with ecstasy of shame.
That tearing pain is gone, enriched
By his life-spasm ; but he being gone, the same
Myself is gone
Sucked by the dragon down below death’s horizon.
Ill
I woke from this. I lay upon the lawn;
They had thrown roses on the moss