Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu/142

 Unfathomable is my mouth's dream Do not men say? So secret are my far eyes, Weaving for iron men profound subtleties.

Sorceress they name me; And my eyes harden, and they say, "How may those eyes know love If God made her without a heart?

"Her tears, her moaning, Her sad profound gaze, The dishevelled lustres of her hair Moon-storm like" they say, "These are her subtleties" men say. My husband sleeps, The ghosts of my virgin days do not trouble him His sleep can be over-long, For there is that in my embers Pride and blushes of fire, the outraged blood, His sleep makes me remember.

Sleep, hairy hunter; sleep! You are not hungry more, Having fed on my deliciousness ; Your sleep is not adultery to me,