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Page 1 of 11898 · PDF PAGE 22
…er pure fabric springs Clothed in the secret dream-delights of Art Transcendent into air, the tomb of Things ; Let every kiss Melt on my lips to flame, fling back the gates of Dis ! XXII. Give me a master ! Not some learned priest Who by long toil and anguish has devised A train of mysteries, but some despised Young king of men, whose spirit is released From all the weariness, whose lips are prized By men not much— Ah ! let them only once grow warm, my lips to touch. 2 2
1898 · PDF PAGE 15
…moveless point Where all power, light, life, motion concentrate, I found God dwelling. Strong, immaculate, He knew me and he loved ! His lips anoint My lips with love ; with thirst insatiate He drank my breath, Absorbed my life in His, dispersed me, gave me death. VIII. This is release, is freedom, is desire ; This is the one hope that a man may gain ; This is the lasting ecstasy of pain That fools reject, the dread, the searching fire That quivers in the marrow, that in vain Burns secretly The unconsuméd bush where God lurks privily. 1 5
1898 · PDF PAGE 18
…thliest vampires gloom. XIV. Thou must breath in all poisons ; for thy 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
1898 · PDF PAGE 26
…r reek and fume and bitter sweat His body perishes, his life is drained, The last sweet drop of nectar has not stained Another life, his lips and limbs are wet With death-dews ! Ha ! The painter has attained As high a meed As his who first begot sweet music on a reed. XXX. And O ! my music is so poor and thin ! I am poor Marsyas ; where shall I find A wise Olympas and a lover kind To teach my mouth to sing some secret sin, Faint, fierce, and horrible, to tune my mind, And on a reed Better beloved to bid me discourses at his need ? 2 6
1898 · PDF PAGE 28
…E. My heavy hair upon my olive skin ( Baise la lourde crinière ! ) Frames with its ebony a face like sin. My heavy hair ! You touched my lips and told me I was fair ; It was your wickedness my love to win. ( Baise la lourde crinière ! ) Your passion has destroyed my soul—what care If you desire me, and I hold you in My arms a little, and you love for lair My heavy hair ! It is a fatal web your fingers spin. ( Baise la lourde crinière ! ) Let our love end as other loves begin, Or, slay me at The Moment, unaware, Or, kiss in mutual death-pang, if…