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…the golden goal ! Yea ! all your light involves Me, me tenebrous, me too cold and base Ever to kindle to the maiden face (Three years my wife, three years of me unwon !) That would be mine, be mine, Were I but man enough To endure the rapture of that sudden sun The knowledge of your love, The assumption of me into that sweet shrine 1 R
… young true God, or spoiled the sacrifice, And were but dead as any man is dead ! So I have given up my inmost life Even unto you, sweet wife, Carelessyet conscious of the babe-stirred womb Of some dread Mother older than the Tomb, Wiser than Life, more pitiful than Death. IV OUR wine-stained and wine-coloured hair unloosing, Mingle your wine-wise breath, Spiritual siren ! with the scent seducing Your body sheds, scarred with the bleeding kisses My tenderness bit in, Like to a lion feeding in wild white wildernesses, My spirit sensible to your…
…range perfumes struck me like a lash And the dread fires scorched up my life. There, O insufferable delight I mock with the weak word of wife, I was sucked down into the crater rim, Into the crimson damask dim Candescent cave of night O then I mock myself with words ! They are like cardinal-coloured birds And honey-coloured doves : Yet one thing mortal serves to name another As mortal as itself. Why must our deathless loves Be stained by the black-hearted mother That called things by dead names ? The sunny elf Language shall play with the ethe…