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Arthur Symons - The Avenging Spirit
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So you have drugged me with this poisoned wine 
Because I never loved you; trees writhe grim 
Around us and their mockery makes malign 
Your gestures and the ardour of each limb 
I have seen naked, I have known divine; 
Your eyes, fatal as death`s, where I see swim 
Dead ghosts of spent desires. O sorrows nine 
That are mine own! Am I not vowed to Him 
Who stalks there in the shadow of that pine, 
Now that the virginless Moon is vestal, dim, 
As Hades? Ah! that mirror that is thine, 
That sees the Lampads dip over the rim 
Of the round world; mirror, nay, no more mine, 
Than to his Hell the hell-born Teraphim. 

Hell-born you are not, daughter of some Hell 
Wherein forever burns the infernal fire, 
For in your body is the inevitable 
Sting of the Serpent made of the Snake`s desire, 
The desire he had of Lilith, whose strange spell 
Woven around him made his breath respire 
The odours of no death, not damnable, 
But deadly when the blood that`s mixed with mire 
Propagates evil. You the insensible 
Beast of the Wilderness where root and briar 
Mix, and the ways thereof no man can tell, 
Jungles and forests, lion`s lust and ire; 
Now, what shall leap on me from a sunken well? 
You, you, that glitter in your golden wire! 
The Night I know shall nestle in your hair 
And the night`s birds shall bite you furiously, 
And even were your body thin and bare 
As when you loved me most, when all the Sea 
Of passion surged across us and the air 
Shot wicked lightnings, hell`s, ironically, 
And hurled dead leaves upon us: we were aware 
Of certain subtle Loves that daintily 
Slid over grasses greener than the vair 
You women wear, and eyed us mockingly 
Seeing how mad our love was laughed a rare 
Laughter that shook our senses as you and me 
Lay linked together and your hair my hair 
Held fast. They passed, leaving us nakedly 

As love must: be, and without any Shame 
We gazed upon each other in surprise. 
These, having passed, I called you by your name: 
Lamia! And all the malice in your eyes 
Darkened with a veritable flame 
The flame the Sun has when he crucifies 
Himself only, in you, always the same 
Irresistible irritation that denies 
Nothing, gives all things, playing Sin`s own game 
Before the horror of the naked skies 
That shuddered on us, knew the thing that came. 

And when the night was over, then we rose 
And came upon a wicked piece of Earth. 
Thessalian witches, writhing in strange throes, 
With convulsed limbs, with some Satanic mirth 
Evoked the Demons. Ah, the venomous dose 
Of poison in their eyes and in their girth!
Nay, the snake only his own venom knows; 
I think that then you had a second birth. 
That gave you the desire to poison me 
That grew in you just then and quickened so, 
Till, knowing your guilt, your evil Sorcery 
Changed on itself; and I that was your Foe 
Before my wrath changed to love and came to be 
That thing of things you know, the thing I know, 
Death-doomed; yea, to be severed angrily 
From life and lust and in the dust bow low 
This haughty head; you, very suddenly 
Tried to destroy the poison; yea, by slow 
Soft processes, to avert the ignominy 
Of your incarnate spirit. Lo, now, lo, 
Now that I die, what hell-spume of the sea 
The wind of your breath makes evil about me, so 
As your arms hold me? I see Death`s sinister face 
Between the window-panes, and I must go. 

There is a stirring in the wind that wakes 
Out of their sleep the beasts that love the wood. 
Lo, this avenging Spirit of mine, that slakes 
Its thirst upon the famishing multitude 
Your breath must famish on! O snake of snakes, 
By all the agony of the Holy Rood 
That for our sakes its mortal coil forsakes, 
Here`s my last kiss: You have slain my spirit`s blood!
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