Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/136

 Invisible—in supernatural haze, Of shapes that seem not shapes to human gaze— The devils were half awed as they did stand Around her; each one in his separate hell All inwardly was forced to praise her well: And every man was fain to lose his hand Or do all that sweet woman might command.

There was a tumult.—Cloven foot and scale Of fiend with iron heel and coat of mail Were rolled and hustled in the rage to slay That fair young Saviour: when they murdered him And brought his head, still beautiful—though dim And drenched with blood—the aureole did play Above it, slowly vanishing away.

I weep to think of him and his fair light So quenched—of him thrust into some long night Of unaccomplishment so soon, alas! And Thou, who on that ancient palace floor Didst dance, where dost thou writhe now evermore— Salome, Daughter of Herodias? O woman-viper—may thy curse ne'er pass!