Page:The Smart Set (Volume 1).djvu/126

118 Wert thou not glad to worship
 * With some blond Paphian boy,

Illumined by new knowledge
 * And intimate with joy?

And did not the Allmother
 * Smile in the hushed dim light,

Hearing thy stifled laughter
 * Disturb her holy rite?

Ah, well thou must have served her
 * In wise and gracious ways,

With more than vestal fervor,
 * A loved one all thy days!

And dost thou, then, revisit
 * Our borders at her will,

Child of the sultry rapture,
 * Waif of the Orient still?

Because thy love was fearless
 * And fond and strong and free,

Art thou not her last witness
 * To our apostasy?

Just at the height of Summer,
 * The joy-days of the year,

She bids, for our reproval,
 * Thy radiance appear.

Oh, Iris, let thy spirit
 * Enkindle our gross clay,

Bring back the lost earth-passion
 * For beauty to our day!

To-night, when down the marshes
 * The lilac half-lights fade,

And on the rosy shore-line
 * No earthly spell is laid,

I would be thy new lover,
 * With the dark life renewed

By our great mother Tanis
 * And thy solicitude;

Feel slowly change this vesture
 * Of mortal flesh and bone,

Transformed by her soft witch-work
 * To one more like thine own;

Become but as the rain-wind
 * (Who am but dust indeed),

To slake thy velvet ardor
 * And soothe thy darling need;

To dream and waken with thee
 * Under the night's blue sail,

As the wild odors freshen,
 * Till the white stars grow pale.