Ambition 

Build me a gibbet against the sky, 

Solid and strong and long miles high, 

Let me hang where the high winds blow 

That never stoop to the world below, 

And the great clouds lumber by. 

Let the people who toil below 

See me swaying to and fro, 

See me swinging the aeons through, 

A dancing dot in the distant blue.  13

A Stirring of Green Leaves 

I long for the South as a man for a maid, 

The rose at the window bar, 

The stars and the palm-trees’ velvet shade 

And the strum of a Spanish guitar. 

My people laughed at the frost and cold, 

And the blast from winter’s mouth, 

But my soul is worn and thin and old 

And it reaches blind to the South. 

Why should I yearn for a gypsy trail 

Through the olive trees of Spain? 

Mine is the race of the Western Gael 

And the cold, slow blood of the Dane. 

But never the restless leaves are stirred 

By a breath from summer’s mouth 

But like the soul of a wandering bird 

My soul is yearning South.  14

The Adventurer 

Dusk on the sea; the fading twilight shifts; 

The night wind bears the ocean’s whisper dim — Wind, on your bosom many a phantom drifts — A silver star climbs up the blue world rim. 

Wind, make the green leaves dance above me here And idly swing my silken hammock — so; 

Now, on that glimmering molten silver mere Send the long ripples wavering to and fro. 

And let your moon-white tresses touch my face And let me know your slim-armed, cool embrace While to my dreamy soul you whisper low. 

Dream — aye, I’ve dreamed since last night left her tower And now again she comes on star-soled feet. Welcome, old friend; here in this rose-gemmed bower I’ve drowsed away your Sultan’s golden heat. Here in my hammock, Time I’ve dreamed away For I have but to stretch a hand out, lo, 

I’m treading languorous shores of Yesterday, Moon-silvered deserts or the star-weird snow; I float o’er seas where ships are purple shells, I hear the tinkle of the camel bells 

That waft down Cairo’s streets when dawn winds blow. 

South Seas! I watch when dusky twilight comes Making vague gods of ancient, sea-set trees. The world path beckons — loud the mystic drums — Here at my hand the magic golden keys

That fit the doors of Romance, Wonder, strange 

Dim gossamer adventures; seas and stars. 

Why, I have roamed the far Moon Mountain range 

When sunset minted gold in shimmering bars. 

All eager-eyed I’ve sailed from ports of Spain 

And watched the flashing topaz of the Main 

When dawn was flinging witch fire on the spars. 

I am content in dreams to roam my fill 

The vagrant, drifting sport of wind and tide, 

Slave of the greater freedom, venture’s thrill; 

Here every magic ship on which I ride. 

Gold, green, blue, red, a priceless treasure trove, 

More wealth than ever pirate dared to dream. 

My hammock swings — about the world I rove. 

The sunset’s dusk, the dawning’s glide and gleam, 

Moon-dappled leaves are murmuring in the wind 

Which whispers tales. Lo, Tyre is just behind, 

Through seas of dawn I sail, Romance abeam.  16

A Challenge to Bast 

Come not to me, Bubastes, 

With agate talons hid, 

Veil not the fury of your eyes 

Beneath the drooping lid. 

Save all your gentleness for those 

Mad passion makes aghast, 

For they who are too frail to face 

Your love’s unholy blast. 

But come to me as you of old 

Your demon lovers met — 

A black, stark naked frenzied thing 

Of ebony and jet. 

Where jackals haunt the shadows 

In the star-light’s yellow glow 

With bodies writhing savagely, 

And teeth that gnash in ecstasy, 

We’ll glut all hidden splendors 

That maddened passions know.  17

Egypt 

Bubastes! Down the lank and sullen years 

Your magic haunts my dreams in distant lands, 

My old desire assails me with red brands; 

I see the god that o’er your shoulder leers, 

Your eyes, your eyes like mystic midnight meres — 

Your body quivering to my questing hands — 

Why do you beckon me across the sands? 

Have you not other victims to your spears? 

There is no dream, but your long narrow eyes 

Bring back the days of Egypt’s dusky skies. 

Fair Bast! I come! I know you wait me there, 

And I must feel again, like singing wine, 

Your slender fingers flutter through my hair, 

Your slim, white body nestling close to mine.  18

Ivory in the Night 

Maidens of star and of moon, 

born from the mists of the age, 

I thrill to the touch of your hands, 

in the night when the shadows are o’er me. 

Your eyes are like the gulfs of the night, 

your limbs are like ivory gleaming — 

But your lips are more red than is mortal, 

and pointed the nails of your fingers.  19

Desire 

“Turn out the light.” I raised a willing hand 

And plunged the room into the silken, cool 

Darkness in which the deeper passions rule; 

Your tresses snared me with each moon-lit strand, 

Your soft breasts sent warm raptures through my hand. 

I felt your slim, fresh body close to mine, 

The blood went racing through my veins like wine 

And my desire was like a flaming brand. 

The pulsing world was as a couch for us; 

The brittle moon that flung her silver down 

A jewel mystical and luminous 

Enshrined and fashioned in our passion’s crown; 

The dusky, deep sapphirean sky above 

A star-ensplendored canopy for love.  20

Scarlet and gold are the stars tonight 

Scarlet and gold are the stars tonight, 

The river runs silver below the bridge — 

But the hour shall come when the dawn grows white 

Over the eastern ridge. 

Your face is a dim white flower of night, 

In your arms unheeded the hours fall — 

But the dawn makes hearts grow strange and light, 

And the far lands call.  21

Love 

I have felt your lips on mine 

Your hair has veiled my eyes 

When my blood was wild as singing wine 

And star-gold flecked the skies. 

We have watched the moonlight dance 

On the breast of the still lagoon 

But now I am tired of your changeless glance 

In the eye of the wrinkled moon. 

What have you given me 

To name as an ultimate bliss? 

Am I more strong, more free? 

What slavery is this? 

For a single star on the dusky sea 

I would barter your hottest kiss.  22

The Sea Girl 

My love is the girl of the jade green gown 

And strange, inscrutable eyes; 

She is slower far to smile than to frown 

And her laugh is the wrath of the skies. 

Her footsteps fall where the wild winds flee, 

Her kiss is the touch of Fate; 

And her love, the love that she gives to me 

Is crueler than her hate. 

The beautiful women of human ken, 

They ravish man’s love away, 

But my girl tramples the bones of men 

And mingles their souls with spray. 

Pensive and quiet and fraught with guile 

She dreams when the gulls drift free, 

But her strange lips bide white teeth and her smile 

Is the song of the Lorelei. 

Yet her wind-blown voice is an urge and a spur 

That bids me follow her fast 

Though I know that I, through my love of her, 

Shall come to my death at last. 

Shall lie in her arms mid the sea-deeps green 

Where the dim, lost tides go down, 

Yet I would not trade for a white-armed queen 

My girl of the jade green gown.  23

Ocean-Thoughts 

The strong winds whisper o’er the sea, 

Flinging the gray-gnarled ocean’s spate; 

The gray waves lash along the lea. 

The lone gull’s wings are high and free, 

The great seal trumpets for his mate; 

The high winds drum, the wild winds dree. 

The gray shoals roar unceasingly, 

Where combers march in kingly state, 

The crest-crowned monarchs of the sea. 

And now, along the lone, white lea, 

The surges fade, the winds abate. 

And the wide sea lies silently. 

But far to islands, restlessly 

Surges the tide, unreined and great, 

Forever roaming and forever free. 

And thus my soul, forever restlessly, 

Longs for the outworld, vast, unultimate, 

The vasty freedom of the swinging sea, 

Forever roaming and forever free.  24

Love’s Young Dream 

I saw the evil red light gleam 

Above the brothel door; 

I entered in as in a dream 

And climbed the stair once more. 

I caught the stench of hairy men And sweat and smoke and beer, 

And cutting through the smudgy din Her empty laugh rose clear. 

I stood within her littered room That opened on the hall; 

I saw the flasks of cheap perfume And the pictures on the wall. 

Her hat was tossed on a broken chair, A coat lay on the floor; 

Cheap cigarettes made sick the air That seeped through the sagging door. 

And all my dreams sank down to fade, And yet the girl stood there, 

That I had visioned a laughing maid With a blossom in her hair. 

The girl I dreamed she might have been Fades before she that is — 

But I’ll forget as do all men 

In passion’s barren bliss.

For she runs with Life a parallel — 

The dream and its rotten core — 

For Life’s a harlot out of hell 

With a red light over her door.  26

The Myth 

Sages have said, we leave our sex on earth 

When take we our departure through the skies; 

And that a soul is done with sensual mirth, 

When from this worldly sphere the ego flies. 

We soar with white, unpassioned wings, and placid feet 

Lead ne’er o’er ways that we have trod before, 

And up and down and o’er the Golden Street, 

We twang our harps and chant forever more. 

They say that Passion’s kiss there none will know; 

No eager-breasted girl, nor clean-limbed boy; 

The sages sing a tedious land, I trow, 

For when ye steal the sex, ye steal the joy. 

For all of worldly life is versed in Sex, 

All that is fair and foul, or fine or fell, 

It may fling down, uplift or merely vex, 

Yet ’tis the wine of gods and flame of Hell. 

We polish Vice, we scoff it and we hide, 

And yet it is the wine of Life, the spice, 

I cannot see how human soul might bide, 

Forever in a barren Paradise. 

Nay, this bare myth doth mock the very Name 

For He made Beauty, strong, and clean and lithe, 

But eld, self-righteous sinners, failed in shame, 

They hated Beauty, so they built the myth.  27

The Weakling 

I died in sin and forthwith went to Hell; 

I made myself at home upon the coals 

Where seas of flame break on the cinder shoals. 

Till Satan came and said with angry yell, 

“You there — divulge what route by which you fell.” 

“I spent my youth among the flowing bowls, 

Wasted my life with women of dark souls, 

Died brothel-fighting — drunk on muscatel.” 

Said he, “My friend, you’ve been directed wrong: 

You’ve naught to recommend you for our feasts — 

Like factory owners, brokers, elders, priests; 

The air for you! This place is for the strong!” 

Then as I pondered, minded to rebel, 

He laughed and forthwith kicked me out of Hell.  28

Men are toys on a godling’s string 

Men are toys on a godling’s string; 

All of the world is chaff. 

Glory and honor, let them sing: 

I am content to laugh.  29

Nectar 

When I stand at the gates of Paradise 

I will wipe my brow and say: 

“It’s a long path and a dusty path 

The path I have walked today. 

“It’s a hot path and a dry path 

From Hell to Paradise — 

Oh Peter, my boy, have ye never now 

A bit of a bottle on ice?” 

“Patrick, me lad, I’ve saved ye wan, 

It’s thirsty ye’d be, I knew!” 

And he’ll fetch me a bottle black and cold, 

Of the paradisal brew. 

Oh, a bottle black and beaded cold, 

And the liquid amber and clear, 

With the sparkling foam and the right sharp tang— 

And I’ll drink his health in the beer. 

And when I pass through the Golden Gates 

I’ll see ten thousand signs: 

“Judas & Co.,” “Sargon & Cain” — 

“Liquors and Ales and Wines”! 

Lined each side of the silver streets, 

Gemmed with many a star, 

With flaming moons for electric lights — 

Each building in heaven a bar!  30

Moonlight on a Skull 

Golden goats on a hillside black, 

Silken hose on a wharf-side trull, 

Naked girl on a silver rack — 

What are dreams in a shadowed skull? 

I stood at a shrine and Chiron died, 

A woman laughed from the bawdy roofs, 

And he burned and lived and rose in his pride 

And shattered the tiles with clanging hoofs. 

I opened a volume dark and rare, 

I lit a candle of mystic lore — 

Bare feet throbbed on the outer stair 

And the candle faltered to the floor. 

Ships that sail on a windy sea, 

Lovers that take the world to wife, 

What doth the harlot hold for me 

Who scarce have lifted the veil of life?  31

Recompense 

I have not heard lutes beckon me, nor the brazen bugles call, 

But once in the dim of a haunted lea I heard the silence fall. 

I have not heard the regal drum, nor seen the flags unfurled, 

But I have watched the dragons come, fire-eyed, across the world. 

I have not seen the horsemen fall before the hurtling host, 

But I have paced a silent hall where each step waked a ghost. I have not kissed the tiger-feet of a strange-eyed golden god, But I have walked a city’s street where no man else had trod. 

I have not raised the canopies that shelter revelling kings, 

But I have fled from crimson eyes and black unearthly wings. 

I have not knelt outside the door to kiss a pallid queen, 

But I have seen a ghostly shore that no man else has seen. 

I have not seen the standards sweep from keep and castle wall,

But I have seen a woman leap 

from a dragon’s crimson stall, 

And I have heard strange surges boom 

that no man heard before, 

And seen a strange black city loom 

on a mystic night-black shore. 

And I have felt the sudden blow 

of a nameless wind’s cold breath, 

And watched the grisly pilgrims go 

that walk the roads of Death, 

And I have seen black valleys gape, 

abysses in the gloom, 

And I have fought the deathless Ape 

that guards the Doors of Doom. 

I have not seen the face of Pan, 

nor mocked the Dryad’s haste, 

But I have trailed a dark-eyed Man 

across a windy waste. 

I have not died as men may die, 

nor sinned as men have sinned, 

But I have reached a misty sky 

upon a granite wind.  33

Slumber 

A silver scroll against a marble sky, 

A brooding idol hewn of crimson stone, 

A dying queen upon an ebon throne, 

An iron bird that rends the clouds on high, 

A golden lute whose echoes never die — 

A thousand dreams that men have never known 

Spread mighty wings and fold me when alone 

Upon my couch in haunted sleep I lie. 

Then rending mists, the spurring whisper comes 

“Wake, dreamer, wake, your tryst with Life to keep!” 

Yet, waking, still a throb of phantom drums 

Comes hauntingly across the mystic deep; 

Their echo still my thrilling soul chord thrums — 

Which is the waking, then, and which the sleep?  34

An Open Window 

Behind the veil what gulfs of time and space? 

What blinking mowing shapes to blast the sight? 

I shrink before a vague colossal face 

Born in the mad immensities of night.  35

Shadow of Dreams 

Stay not from me that veil of dreams that gives Strange seas and skies and lands and curious fire, Black dragons, crimson moons and white desire, That through the silvery fabric sifts and sieves Strange shadows, shades and all unmeasured things, And in the sifting lends them shapes and wings And makes them known in ways past common knowing — Red lands, black seas and ivory rivers flowing. 

How of the gold we gather in our hands? 

It cheers, but shall escape us at the last, 

And shall mean less, when this brief day is past, Than that we gathered on the yellow sands, 

The phantom ore we found in Wizard-lands. 

Keep not from me my veil of curious dreams Through which I see the giant things which drink From mountain-castled rivers — on the brink Black elephants that woo the fronded streams, And golden tom-toms pulsing through the dusk, And yellow stars, black trees and red-eyed cats, And bales of silk and amber jars of musk, 

And opal shrines and tents and vampire bats. 

Long highways climbing eastward to the moon, And caravans of camels lade with spice, 

And ancient sword hilts carved with scroll and rune, And marble queens with eyes of crimson ice.

Uncharted shores where moons of scarlet spray 

Break on a Viking’s galley on the sand, 

And curtains held by one slim silver band 

That float from casements opening on a bay, 

And monstrous iron castles, dragon-barred, 

And purple cloaks with inlaid gems bestarred. 

Long silver tasseled mantles, curious furs, 

And camel bells and dawns and golden heat, 

And tuneful rattle of the horseman’s spurs 

Along some sleeping desert city’s street. 

Time strides and all too soon shall I grow old 

With still all earth to see, all life to live: 

Then come to me, my silver veil, and sieve, 

Seas of illusion beached with magic gold.  37

The ages stride on golden feet 

The ages stride on golden feet 

The stars re-echo to the beat; 

And o’er the peaks across the vales 

the sea-winds seek the dawn; 

The east is tinted like the rose, 

A light breeze through the tree-tops blows 

And through the dawn the red deer goes 

to meet the timid fawn. 

Through the forest on to the smiling dawn.  38

Desert Dawn 

Dim seas of sand swim slowly into sight 

As if from out the silence swiftly born; 

Faint foremost herald of the coming morn, 

Red tentacles reach out into the night; 

The shadows gray, then fade to rosy white. 

The stars fade out, the greatest and the least; 

Now a red rose is blooming in the east, 

And from its widening petals comes the light. 

While, fleecy clouds are fading from on high, 

The sun-god flings afar his golden brands; 

A breeze springs up and races ’mid the dunes, 

A-whisper with old tales and mystic runes; 

Now blue and gold ride rampant in the sky, 

And now full day comes marching o’er the sands.  39

L’Envoi 

Twilight striding o’er the mountain, 

Morn is whispering o’er the desert. 

Mid the leaves the sea-breeze murmurs, 

From the woodlands dryads beckon, 

Come with me and learn the glory 

Of the desert in the morning, 

Of the ocean in the dawning.  40

The Call of Pan 

My heart is a silver drum tonight — 

— And the moon is red in the East — 

And he drums with a rattle eery and light, 

The god with the hoofs of the beast. 

Drums with a thunder gold and light, 

And the silence breathes like a mist rose white, 

Is it my heart that he drums tonight, 

Or the moon in the dreaming East? 

His call to the sons of men at dawn — 

And they falter and halt and start — 

Is the haunting wail of pipe soon gone; 

Oh, they hear his pipes in the brooding dawn, 

But he shouts to me and he leads me on 

With the drum that is my heart.  41

Earth-born 

By rose and verdant valley 

And silence I was born, 

My brothers were the mountains, 

The purple gods of morn. 

My sisters were the whirlwinds 

That broke the dreaming plains — 

The earth is in my sinews, 

The stars are in my veins! 

For first upon the molten 

White silver sands I lay, 

And saw the ocean beckon 

With eyes of burning spray. 

And up along the mountain, 

And down along the lea 

I heard my brothers singing, 

The river and the tree. 

And through the ocean’s thunder, 

And through the forest’s hush I heard my sisters calling, 

The sea-wind and the thrush. 

And still all living voices 

Leap forth amain and far, 

The sunset and the shadow, 

The eagle and the star.

From caverns of the ocean 

To highest mountain tree 

I hear all voices singing 

Their kinship unto me.  43

The Day Breaks Over Simla 

Near a million dawns have burst 

Scarlet over Jakko’s hill 

Since our burning kisses first 

Mingled in the twilight still, 

In the magic, sapphire dusk 

when our passions drank their fill. 

I remember how the moon 

Floated over shadowed dells 

And the mellow mystic tune 

Of the tinkling temple bells — 

Ere Siddertha’s people turned 

to the braying sea-conch shells. 

Lips to scarlet lips we pressed 

Ah, your eyes were star lit meres 

As your tresses I caressed 

Calmed your modest virgin fears — 

Love upon an Indian night, 

love to last a thousand years. 

Fades the rosy dawn as slow 

Morning flames across the plain; 

With a sigh I turn and go 

Humming some old time refrain 

To the consul house as day 

over Simla breaks again. 44

A Moment 

Let me forget all men a space, 

All dole and death and dearth; 

Let me clutch the world in my hungry arms — 

The paramour of the earth. 

The hills are gowned in emerald trees 

And the sea-green tides of grain, 

And the joy, oh God, of the tingling sod, 

Oh, it rends my heart in twain. 

My feet are bare to the burning dew, 

My breast to the stinging breeze; 

And I watch the sun in the flaming blue 

Like a worshipper on his knees. 

With the joys of the sun and love and growth 

All things of the earth are rife; 

And the soul that is deep in the breast of me 

Sings with the pulse of Life.  45

A Riding Song 

Blast away the black veil, 

Blast away the blue; 

Fill with wind the slack sail, 

Stars are blinking through. 

Hammers pound, hammers pound, 

Ghosts are in the hall; 

Out beyond the dim sound 

The green seas call. 

What of hearts can men lend 

Beg or buy or borrow? 

Joy and hope and pain end 

Riding down Tomorrow. 

Shadows haunt the still house — 

Lock the doors forever; 

Fling the key in the sea, 

Riding from the river. 

Lock the Door behind the doors 

On all joy and sorrow; 

Drown them where the sea roars, 

Riding down Tomorrow!  46

Deeps 

There is a cavern in the deep 

Beyond the sea-winds brawl; 

Where the hills of the sea slope high and steep, 

And dragons sleep 

And serpents creep 

There is a cavern in the deep 

Where strange sea-creatures crawl.  47

The Sea-Woman 

The wild sea is beating 

Against the grey sands; 

The woman, the sea-woman, 

Stretches her hands. 

Her eyes they are mystic 

And cold as the sea, 

With slender white fingers 

She beckons to me — 

There are woods in the sea 

Though the leaves are all grey, 

The ocean’s pale roses 

Lift dim in the spray. 

I follow I follow — 

The grey sea-gull flies — 

Ah, woman, sea-woman, 

There’s death in your eyes.  48

Black Seas 

I have heard black seas booming in the night 

On dim uncharted shores beneath the stars, 

With reefs that never gleamed to mortal sight, 

And winds that never hastened man-hewn spars. 

I waver on the threshold of my choice — 

Oh silver stars that gleam in oceans black! — 

For through the night there sounds a nameless Voice: 

“Who ride the dusky seas — they come not back.”  49

Surrender (The Road to Rest) 

I will rise some day when the day is done 

And the stars begin to quiver; 

I will follow the road of the setting sun 

Till I come to a dreaming river. 

I am weary now of the world and vow 

Of the winds and the winter weather; 

I’ll reel through a few more years somehow, 

Enough for me if she has for me 

A bamboo hut she’ll share, 

And enough tequila to set me free 

From the ghosts that leer and stare.

I’ll lie all day in a sodden sleep 

Through days without name or number, 

With only the wind in the sky’s blue deep 

To haunt my unshaken slumber. 

And I’ll lie by night in the star-roofed hut 

Forgetful and quiet-hearted, 

Till she comes with her burning eyes half shut 

And her red lips hot and parted. 

The past is flown when the cup is full, 

And there is no chain for linking 

And any woman is beautiful 

When a man is blind with drinking. 

Life is a lie that cuts like a knife 

With its sorrow and fading blisses; 

I’ll go to a girl who asks naught of life 

Save wine and a drunkard’s kisses. 

No man shall know my race or name, 

Or my past sun-ripe or rotten, 

Till I travel the road by which I came, 

Forgetting and soon forgotten.  51

A Man 

I tore a pine from the mountain crag 

I plunged it into the sea 

And I wrote my name across the stars 

For all of Eternity. 

I rocked the world with my chariots 

I shook the seas with my pride 

And at last I looked at my name in the stars 

And I laid me down and died. 

The morns gave birth to the surging years 

Year rose on dying year 

But ever above in the flaming stars 

My name stood blazing clear. 

And the people came and the people went 

With their fetters and chains and bars, 

Saying, “I wonder what unknown man 

Those strange words wrote on the stars?”  52

The Gods I Worshipped 

The standards toss in pride 

As priests and prelates go, 

But the gods I worshipped died 

Eight thousand years ago. 

The gods of the mountain side, 

The gods of the buffalo, 

The gods of the surging tide, 

The ceaseless ebb and flow.  53

Monarchs 

These be the kings of men, 

Lords of the Ultimate Night, 

Kings of the desert and fen — 

Jackal, vulture and kite.  54

2.

The Heart of the Sea’s Desire 

The stars beat up from the shadowy sea, 

The caves of the coral and pearl, 

And the night is afire with a red desire 

For the loins of a golden girl. 

You have left your girdle upon the beach, 

And you wade from the pulsing land, 

And the hot tide darts to your secret parts 

That have known one lover’s hand. 

The hot tide laves your rounded limbs, 

That his subtle fingers part, 

And the sea that lies between your thighs 

Is the heart of the Night’s red heart. 

In the days to come and the nights to come, 

And the days and the nights to be, 

A babe you shall hold to your breast of gold As you croon a lullaby; 

A babe with the cry of a wind-racked gull, 

That shall grow to a round-limbed girl 

With strange cold eyes like the sea that lies In the caves of coral and pearl. 

Her soul shall be as an ocean wind, 

Restless her feet shall be, 

And she shall be part of the Night’s red heart, 

And the heart of the sounding sea.

And the man who lies by your side at night, 

He is not your daughter’s sire; 

For she is the babe of a hungry Night, 

And the heart of the sea’s desire!  57

Flaming Marble 

I carved a woman out of marble when 

The walls of Athens echoed to my fame: 

And in the myrtle crown was shrined my name. 

I wrought with skill beyond all earthly ken; 

And into cold, inhuman beauty then 

I breathed a mist of white and living flame — 

And from her pedestal she rose and came 

To snare the souls and rend the hearts of men. 

Without a soul, without a human heart 

She broke the crystal gong of mortal pride. 

And even I fell victim to my art: 

With bitter, joyous love I claimed my bride. 

And still with frozen hate that never dies 

She sits and stares at me with icy eyes.  58

Lesbia 

A Roman Lady 

There is a strangeness in my soul 

A dark and brooding sea. 

Nor all the waves on Capri’s shoal 

Might stay the thirst of me. 

For men have come and men have gone 

For pleasure or for hire. 

Though they lay broken at the dawn 

They did not quench my fire. 

My pity is a deathly ruth 

I burn men with my eyes. 

Oh, would all men were one strong youth 

To break between my thighs. 

And many a man his fortune spread 

To glut my ecstacy 

As I lay panting on his bed 

In shameless nudity. 

But all of ancient Egypt’s gold 

Can never equal this, 

Nor all the treasures kingdoms hold, 

A single hour of bliss. 

Within my villa’s high domain 

Are boys from Britain’s rocks 

And dark eyed slender lads from Spain And Greeks with perfumed locks 

And youths of soft and subtle speech From furtherest Orient,

Wherever arms of legions reach 

And Roman chains are sent. 

Why may I not be satiate 

With kisses of some boy — 

They only rouse my passion’s spate 

I never know such joy 

As when through chambers filled with noise 

Of wails and pleas and sighs 

I stride among my naked boys 

With whips that bruise their thighs. 

I drift through mists red flaming flung 

On hills of ecstacies 

As shoulder-wealed and buttock-stung 

They shriek and kiss my knees.  63

Nun 

I have anchored my ship to a quiet port; 

A land that is holy and blest. 

But I gaze through my bars at the tempest’s sport 

And I long for the sea’s unrest.  64

Prude 

I dare not join my sisters in the street; 

I think of people’s talk, the cynic stare. 

Fierce envy makes me scornful of their play, 

And hide my lust behind a haughty air.  65

The Choir Girl 

I have a saintly voice, the people say; 

With Elder Blank I send the music winging — 

I smile and compliment him on his singing — 

By God, I’d rather hear a jackass bray. 

I nod and smile to all the pious sisters — 

I wish their rears were stung with seven blisters. 

That youthful minister, so straight and slim — 

I’d trade my soul for one long night with him.  66

Girl 

Gods, what a handsome youth across the way. 

What shall I do to make him notice me? 

I must not be too obvious — there 

I’ll shift my dress, demurely and let him see 

A quick glance of an ankle very trim; 

Then blush and smooth my skirts down hastily 

As if ’twere unintentional — Hell! 

The fool’s not even got his eyes on me.  67

Sailor 

I saw a mermaid sporting in the bay, 

Far down, far down where blew no roaring gale; 

About her snowy shoulders flashed the spray, 

The waves played emerald at her sinewy tail; 

She swam a jade and golden, star-set way, 

Where all the rainbow colors seemed to play — 

She vanished at the Swedish captain’s hail 

Who bid me go to Hell and furl a sail.  68

Never Beyond the Beast 

Rise to the peak of the ladder 

Where the ghosts of the planets feast — 

Out of the reach of the adder — 

Never beyond the Beast. 

He is there, in the abyss brooding, 

Where the nameless black fires fall; 

He is there, in the stars intruding, 

Where the sun is a silver ball. 

Beyond all weeping or revel, 

He lurks in the cloud and the sod; 

He grips the doors of the Devil 

And the hasp on the gates of God. 

Build and endeavor and fashion — 

Never can you escape 

The blind black brutish passion — 

The lust of the primal Ape.  69

A Great Man Speaks 

They set me up on high, a marble saint, 

As if to guard the virtue of the park. 

My flanks are gaunt, my gaze is cold and stark, 

For I must look the part the liars paint, 

They’ve cleansed my history of fleshy taint. 

The elders bid the younger people mark 

How virtuous I gleam against the dark — 

Could I but speak I’d make the bastards faint. 

Great God, how could they know the lusty zest, 

The love of life that made my sinews dance? — 

Below me now, against my base, inert, 

A lousy tramp, a sleeping house-maid rest, 

I yearn for that square flask in his old pants. 

My fingers burn to feel beneath her skirt.  70

Rebellion 

The marble statues tossed against the sky 

In gestures blind as though to rend and kill, 

Not one upon his pedestal was still. 

Stiff fingers clutched at winds that whispered by, 

And from the white lips rose a deathly cry: 

“Cursed be the hands that broke us from the hill! 

There slumber of unbirth was ours till 

They gave us life that cannot live or die.” 

And then as from a dream I stirred and woke — 

Sublime and still each statue raised its head, 

Etched pure and cold against the leafy green, 

No limb was moved, no sigh the silence broke; 

And people walked amid the grove and said: 

“How peaceful these white gods! — aye, how serene.”  71

The Robes of the Righteous 

I am a saintly reformer, 

basking in goodly renown 

Sure of applaud of the righteous, cinctured in purity’s gown. 

Young men and old men revere me, women and girls out of school Come to me telling their secrets, seeking my counseling cool. 

Little they know of my story 

when I was the water-front’s toast, Back in the days of my glory 

down on the Barbary Coast. 

Young and my lips full and crimson, flaming with passionate blood, My love was the leap of an ocean, my passion the swing of the flood. Changing and varied my fancies yet no woman ever gave more 

For I joyed in the man on my body just as much as the one just before. Ah, nights that were lurid and gorgeous, under the bar lamps blaze 

Flutter of cards on the table, 

faces that leered through the haze Of smoke drifting up from the stogies, the red liquor flowing free

And the shout of the salty ballads 

that sailors sang from the sea. 

The money scattered like water, 

the pagan thrill of the dance 

The hand that groped in my clothing, 

the burning and meaning glance 

Then the look as the stair I mounted, 

the man that left the floor, 

The joyous and panting waiting, 

the stealthy knock at my door — 

What if they knew, the elders, 

that I was a Barbary whore? 

Hiding my charms with meekness 

under purity’s gown 

Sure of applaud of the righteous, 

basking in goodly renown.  73

Repentance 

How is it that I am what I am 

How did I come to fall? 

Who was the man my soul to damn Black in the sight of all? 

Who was it came in my virginhood And in some evil hour 

Turned all my life to bad from good Bruising the tender flower? 

I cannot remember the fellow’s name I had long ago forgot; 

I was young and my blood was flame The person mattered not. 

I was hot as a blazing brand 

Blood and body and nerve 

Ripe to be plucked by the first man’s hand And any man would serve. 

I have had my day, I have had my fling Men have bowed at my knee. 

I sit in the bars where the harlots sing To sailors hot from the sea. 

Sallow my cheeks and my lips have faded Life’s roses slip my clutch 

But my blood is still hot and still unjaded I can thrill to the deck-hand’s touch. 

Still I thrill to the hands of men 

I love the contact yet 

The breath that is laden with wharfside gin

The scent of tobacco and sweat. 

Bristly jowls on my painted cheek 

The obscene, whispered jest, 

Calloused hands that lustfully seek 

My out-worn charms to quest. 

My by-gone life is dim and far; 

I am content with gin, 

A slug of wine, sometimes at the bar, 

A room for the sailormen.  75

The Open Window 

I remember my sister Eve 

And her supple form and her vivid eyes 

And the heart that she wore upon her sleeve 

And the tales that our mother swore were lies. 

Her arms were cool to a younger child, 

And wild and strange were the songs she sung, 

But her hands went cold when our mother smiled 

And she said that our mother was never young. 

She went in a grey and wintry dawn 

That stabbed the veil of the rainy night — 

A flash in the door, and she was gone 

As a white moth flits to the candle light. 

Our mother? She spoke her name no more. 

Gaunter she grew and grim and hard. 

The beggar turned from our tight-lipped door 

And the flowers shrank from our leafless yard. 

I saw her, Eve, in the harlot’s guise. 

Her face was haggard, painted and drawn, 

But the freedom, God, in her changeless eyes 

Made white my soul like a forest dawn.  76

The Witch 

We set a stake amid the stones 

That crown the headland shore, Where wild the sea-wind ever drones And where the combers roar. 

Then leg and ankle, wrist and hand, We bound her to the stake 

With chains that might the fire withstand, And never a word she spake. 

The grey gulls whirled by, light and fleet; Loud called the hooded tern. 

We fired the fagots at her feet 

And left her there to burn. 

Over her bare breasts flowed her hair, About her leaped the flame; 

But as we turned to leave her there She spoke no word of blame. 

I turned upon the sloping lea, 

A moment paused, alone, 

Half fearful, gazing, lest I see 

The Devil claim his own. 

About her breast the red fires gleamed, The dark smoke caught her hair, And to my wondering eyes it seemed A halo floated there.

Fools! Fools! A human soul be cleaned 

By fire of Satan’s taint — 

’Tis we are henchmen of the Fiend! 

For we have burned — a Saint!  78

Moon Mockery 

I walked in Tara’s wood one summer night, 

And saw, amid the still, star-haunted skies, 

A slender moon in silver mist arise, 

And hover on the hill as if in fright. 

Burning, I seized her veil and held her tight: 

An instant all her glow was in my eyes; 

Then she was gone, swift as a white bird flies, 

And I went down the hill in opal light. 

And soon I was aware, as down I came, 

That all was strange and new on every side; 

Strange people went about me to and fro, 

And when I spoke with trembling mine own name 

They turned away, but one man said: “He died 

In Tara Wood, a hundred years ago.”  79

The Last Words He Heard 

The chariots were chanting in the gloom, 

The long dark banners carved the crimson sky, 

A whisper reached me as a shaft went by, 

A deadly bride that sought a deathly groom. 

A black tide swept us, plume on waving plume. 

The arrows filled the air like one great sigh 

The shields boomed out in one great hollow cry, 

Dim pallid faces fringed that sea of doom. 

Then in an instant all the loud alarms 

Died out in silence far along the plain, 

For faces gleamed bare skulls unhelmeted, 

The broken spears fell down from fleshless arms. 

I cried, “My God, but all of these are slain!” 

A Voice replied, “Nay, you alone are dead.”  80