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1885–1930

MYSTERY

David Herbert Lawrence

Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses

Of Egypt filled For a God's excesses. I lift to you My bowl of kisses,

And through the temple's Blue recesses Cry out to you In wild caresses.

And to my lips’ Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my slim

White body drips The shining hymn. And still before The altar I

Exult the bowl Brimful, and cry To you to stoop And drink, Most High.

Oh drink me up That I may be Within your cup Like a mystery,

Like wine that is still In ecstasy. Glimmering still In ecstasy,

Commingled wines Of you and me In one fulfil The mystery.

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MYSTERY · David Herbert Lawrence · Poetry Cove