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“ Six months and I sit still and hold In two cold palms her cold two feet ; Her hair, half grey, half ruined gold, Thrills me and burns me in kissing it. Love bites and stings me through to see Her keen face made of sunken bones, Her worn-out eyelids madden me, That were shot through with purple once.” SWINBURNE, “ The Leper,” Poems and Ballads, 1866.
…ods that are not dead to-day Added their voices ; Heaven’s desart way Man wins not but by sorrow—let him break The golden image with the feet of clay ! Let him despise That earthen vessel which the potter marred—and rise ! 1 6
…e air Some hot contagious growth to slay men unaware. II. I have discovered God ! His ghastly way ; Of burning ploughshares for my naked feet Lies open to me—shall I find it sweet To give up sunlight for that mystic day That beams its torture whose red banners beat Their radiant fire Into my shrivelled head, to wither Love’s desire ? 1 2
…meat, Poison ; for drink, still poison; for thy kiss, A serpent's lips ! An agony is this That sweats out venom; thy clenched hands, thy feet Ooze blood, thine eyes weep blood, thine anguish is More keen than death. At last—there is no deeper vault of hell beneath ! 1 8