Page:Collected poems of Flecker.djvu/49

 But a new torment rent her, and she rose; Her veins large-knotted, standing out in fire; She grasped his arm and shrieked to the solemn sun That rolled in horror down the Western Sea:

There, red-eyed Fury–with lash and terrible hiss, With lash and terrible hiss of steaming snakes– Blood from the breast-wound drips, and from my heart, And from those eyes, and from the pillars–See There, and the statues move. Take away the blank eyes! Oh wild, wild irony of Life and Lust, Life is to death so near, and lust to loathing. All is a jest, a shadow, and a lie, A whirlwind-wondrous lie! Laugh, husband, laugh! Laughter is man’s supreme prerogative: The beasts are sane; they laugh not. I will laugh, My bones and flesh are quaking. Laugh, thou fool! For love is lust, and life is a dream of death –Hell is opening, opening horribly.

March 1904 13