The roses of voluptuousness
Wreathe her dark locks and hide her eyes;
Her limbs are flower-like nakedness,
Wherethrough the fragrant blood doth press,
The blossom-blood of Paradise.
She stands with Lilith finger tips,
With Lilith hands; and gathers up
The wild wine of all life; and sips
With Lilith-laughter-lightened lips
The soul as from a crystal cup.
What though she cast the cup away!
The empty bowl that flashed with wine!
Her curled lips’ kiss, that stained the clay,
Her fingers’ touch — shall not these stay,
That made its nothingness divine?
Through one again shall live the glow,
Immortalizing, of her touch;
And through the other, sweet to know
How life swept flame once‘ neath the snow
Of her mooned breasts,— and this is much!