Collected Works (Vol. I)

JEZEBEL 131 Her hate, her scorn, her cruel blows, Fill my whole life, consume my breath ; Her red-fanged hatred in me glows, I lust for her, and hell, and death. I see that ghastly look, and yearn Toward the brands of her that burn. Sleep shuns me; dreams divide the night, (My parched throat thirsty for her veins) That she and I with deep delight Suck from death’s womb infernal pains, Whose fire consumes, destroys, devours Through night’s insatiable hours. And altogether filled with love, And altogether filled with sin, The little sparks and noises move About the softness of her skin. Her pleasures and her passions purr For the delight I have of her. Aching with all the pangs of night My shuddering body swoons; my eyes Absorb her eyelids’ lazy light, And read her bosom to devise I'resh blossoms of the heart of hell And secret joys of Jezebel. Her lips are fastened to my breast To suck out blood in feverish tides ; The token of her I possessed, Still on my withered cheek abides. Thus slowly the desire grows To kill and have her yet—who knows? Part II. T know. When Ramoth-Gilead's field Grew bloody with hot ranks of dead, IT smote amain with sword and shield ; My brows with mingled blood were red ; And on my cheek the kiss of hell, The hatred of ny Jezebel. I waited many days. At last The rushing of a chariot grew Frightful through all the city vast : Men were afraid. But I—I knew Jehu was here, whose sword should dip Deep in my love’s adulterous lip. The spirit filled me. Azad behold! I saw her dead stare to the skies: I came to her ; she was not cold, But burning with old infumtes. On her incestuous mouth I fell, And lost my soul for Jezebel. I followed him afoot, afire; Beneath her window he drew rein ; She looked forth, clad in glad attire, Haggard and hateful, once again ; And taunted him. His bastard blood Quailed, but his violent soul withstood. He blenched, and then with eyes of flame, ‘¢Who is on my side? Who?” he said. Three eunuchs, passionless, grown tame, Grinned from behind her laughing head. *“Throw down that woman!” breath Caught as they flung her out to death. And my I think I died that moment. Ile, Foaming for vengeance and blood-lust, Laughed his coarse laugh of hideous glee. Her sweet bad body in the dust Ile trampled. Royal from the womb A martyred murderess lacks a tomb ! A tigress woman, clad with sin, And shod with infamy, who pressed The bloody winepress of my skin, And plucked the purple of my breast— Her lovers in their hearts shall keep I{er memory passionate and deep. They cast her forth on Naboth’s field Stull living, in her harlot’s dress: Ifer belly stript, her thighs concealed, For shame’s sake and for love’s no less. Night falls; the gaping crowds abide No longer by her stiffening side.