Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE COURT OF THE PROFANE 167 Thy jet smooth body clung to mine awhile, Descending lke the thunder - pregnant night. Ominous, black, thy secret cruel smile Lured me. We lay like death; until the light Thy jet smooth body clung to mine awhile ! Thou wast a lion as an angel then, In copper-glowing lands that gnaws the prey He has regotten from the tribes of men. _ We lay like passion all that deadly day—- Thou wast a lion as an angel then ! Great angel of the brazen brows, great lover, Great hater of my body as my soul, To whom I gave my life and love thrice over, Fill me one last caress—the poison-bowl ! Great angel of the brazen brows, great lover ! FAME. O iF these words were swords, and I had might From some old prophet in whose tawny hair The very breath of the Jehovah were To smite the Syrian, and to smite, and sinite, And splash the sun’s face with the Llocd, for spite Of his downgoing, till I had made fair All glories of my master, I could bear To sink myself in the abundant night. O if these words were lightnings, and their flame Deluged the world, and drowned the seed of shame In these ill waters where alone Truth’s ark May float, where only lovers may embark, I were contented to abandon fame And live with love for ever in the dark. THE MOTHER AT THE SABBATH.! Come, child of wonder! it is Sabbath Night, The speckled twilight and the sombre singing! Listen and come: the owl’s disastrous flight Points out the road! Hail, O propitious sight ! See! the black gibbet and the murderer swinging! Come, child of wonder and the innocent eyes ! Come where the toad his stealthy way is taking. Flaps the bat’s wing upon thy cheek? How wise, How wicked are those faces! And the skies Are muffled, and the firmament is quaking. Spectres of cats misshapen nestle close, And rub their phantom sides against our dresses. Come, child of wonder! in these souls morose Keen joys may shudder—how the daylight goes !— Night shall betray thee to the cold caresses ! Yes; it is nigh the hour of subtlety And strange looks meaning more than Hell can utter :— Come, child of wonder! watch the woman’s eye Who lurks toward us through the stagnant sky. Hark to the words her serpents hiss or mutter ! 1 The Sabbath of the Witches. ‘Lhe reader should consult Payne Knight, ‘‘’ Two Essays on the Worship of Priapus” ; Eliphaz Levi, ‘‘ His- toire de la Magie” and ‘‘ Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie”; P. Christian, ‘‘ Histoire de- la Magie"; and Goethe, ‘‘ Faust.’”’ Also J. 'Glanvil, ‘‘Saducismus Triumphatus,”