Flowers of Evil | Page 4

uttered imperishable things,?Those evenings illumed by the glow of the coal.
How lovely the suns on those hot, autumn nights!?How vast were the heavens! and the heart how hale!?As I leaned towards you oh, my Queen of Delights,?The scent of thy blood I seemed to inhale.?How lovely the sun on those hot, autumn nights!
The shadows of night-time grew dense like a pall,?And deep through the darkness thine eyes I divined,?And I drank of thy breath oh sweetness, oh gall,?And thy feet in my brotherly hands reclined,?The shadows of Night-time grew dense like a pall.
I know how to call forth those moments so dear,?And to live my Past laid on thy knees once more,?For where should I seek for thy beauties but here?In thy langorous heart and thy body so pure??I know how to call forth those moments so dear.
Those perfumes, those infinite kisses and sighs,?Are they born in some gulf to our plummets denied??Like rejuvenate suns that mount up to the skies,?That first have been cleansed in the depths of the tide;?Oh, perfumes! oh, infinite kisses and sighs!
The Possessed One
The sun is enveloped in crape! like it,
Moon of my Life! wrap thyself up in shade;?At will, smoke or slumber, be silent, be staid,?And dive deep down in Dispassion's dark pit.
I cherish thee thus! But if 'tis thy mood,?Like a star that from out its penumbra appears,?To float in the regions where madness careers,
Fair dagger! burst forth from thy sheath! 'tis good.
Yea, light up thine eyes at the Fire of Renown!?Or kindle desire by the looks of some clown!?Thine All is my joy, whether dull or aflame!
Just be what thou wilt, black night, dawn divine,?There is not a nerve in my trembling frame?But cries, "I adore thee, Beelzebub mine!"
Semper Eadem
"From whence it comes, you ask, this gloom acute,?Like waves that o'er the rocky headland fall?"?When once our hearts have gathered in their fruit,?To live is a curse! a secret known to all,
A grief, quite simple, nought mysterious,?And like your joy for all, both loud and shrill,?Nay cease to clammour, be not e'er so curious!?And yet although your voice is sweet, be still!
Be still, O soul, with rapture ever rife!?O mouth, with the childish smile! Far more than Life,?The subtle bonds of Death around us twine.
Let let my heart, the wine of falsehood drink,?And dream-like, deep within your fair eyes sink,?And in the shade of thy lashes long recline!
All Entire
The Demon, in my lofty vault,?This morning came to visit me,?And striving me to find at fault,?He said, " Fain would I know of thee;
"Among the many beauteous things,?All which her subtle grace proclaim?Among the dark and rosy things,?Which go to make her charming frame,
"Which is the sweetest unto thee"??My soul! to Him thou didst retort?"Since all with her is destiny,?Of preference there can be nought.
When all transports me with delight,?If aught deludes I can not know,?She either lulls one like the Night,?Or dazzles like the Morning-glow.
That harmony is too divine,?Which governs all her body fair,?For powerless mortals to define?In notes the many concords there.
O mystic metamorphosis?Of all my senses blent in one!?Her voice a beauteous perfume is,?Her breath makes music, chaste and wan.
Sonnet XLIII
What sayest thou, to-night, poor soul so drear,?What sayest heart erewhile engulfed in gloom,?To the very lovely, very chaste, and very dear,?Whose god-like look hath made thee to re-bloom?
To her, with pride we chant an echoing Hymn,?For nought can touch the sweetness of her sway;?Her flesh ethereal as the seraphim,?Her eyes with robe of light our souls array.
And be it in the night, or solitude,?Among the streets or 'mid the multitude,?Her shadow, torch-like, dances in the air,
And murmurs, "I, the Beautiful proclaim?That for my sake, alone ye love the Fair;?I am the Guardian Angel, Muse and Dame!"
The Living Torch
They stand before me now, those eyes that shine,?No doubt inspired by an Angel wise;?They stand, those God-like brothers that are mine,?And pour their diamond fires in mine eyes.
From all transgressions, from all snares, they save,?Towards the Path of Joy they guide my ways;?They are my servants, and I am their slave;?And all my soul, this living torch obeys.
Ye charming Eyes ye have those mystic beams,?Of candles, burning in full day; the sun?Awakes, yet kills not their fantastic gleams;
Ye sing the Awak'ning, they the dark oblivion;?The Awak'ning of my spirit ye proclaim,?O stars no sun can ever kill your flame!
The Spiritual Dawn
When the morning white and rosy breaks,?With the gnawing Ideal, upon the debauchee,?By the power of a strange decree,?Within the sotted beast an Angel wakes.
The mental Heaven's inaccessible blue,?For wearied mortals that still dream and mourn,?Expands and sinks; towards the chasm drawn.?Thus, cherished goddess, Being pure and true
Upon the rests of foolish orgy-nights?Thine image, more sublime, more pink, more clear,?Before my staring eyes is ever there.
The sun has darkened all the candle lights;?And thus thy spectre like the immortal sun,?Is ever