 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
A WITCH.
Scarlet lips, and scornful mouth
Breathing of the languid South,
Night entangled in the hair
Stirred with starry gleams, that ran
Here and there without a plan—
All that makes a woman fair,
All that must allure a man
To despair.
Breathing of the languid South,
Night entangled in the hair
Stirred with starry gleams, that ran
Here and there without a plan—
All that makes a woman fair,
All that must allure a man
To despair.
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Eyes with an unearthly fire,
Not delight and not desire,
Calm and fathomless and cold,
Looking through the masks of things,
Angel ways and angel wings,
Steeled against the bribe of gold,
And the curséd love of kings
To withold.
Not delight and not desire,
Calm and fathomless and cold,
Looking through the masks of things,
Angel ways and angel wings,
Steeled against the bribe of gold,
And the curséd love of kings
To withold.
Hands, that like a sceptre wave
Over peace that is a grave,
Beautiful and white, and strong
Every soul to render slave,
Every empire she may crave,
Set as to a conqueror's song—
Hands, that never yet forgave
Any wrong.
Over peace that is a grave,
Beautiful and white, and strong
Every soul to render slave,
Every empire she may crave,
Set as to a conqueror's song—
Hands, that never yet forgave
Any wrong.
I, who left the truer North,
Marked her proudly pictured forth
Thus in sunnier softer clime—
Knew the rapture of the spell
Dragged me downward, as to hell
Falls a spirit ere his time,
Yet rejoicing, if I fell
Into crime.
Marked her proudly pictured forth
Thus in sunnier softer clime—
Knew the rapture of the spell
Dragged me downward, as to hell
Falls a spirit ere his time,
Yet rejoicing, if I fell
Into crime.
Thus I felt the curling lips
Strike me with their red eclipse,
Wrapping me in fiery wreath—
Felt the haunting of the hair
Stab me with its midnight air,
Heavy like a poison breath;
Though on sacrificial stair,
Courting death.
Strike me with their red eclipse,
Wrapping me in fiery wreath—
Felt the haunting of the hair
Stab me with its midnight air,
Heavy like a poison breath;
Though on sacrificial stair,
Courting death.
Thus I saw the burning eyes
Pour on me their thunderous skies,
As where lightnings laugh and thrill—
Owned the drawing of the hands
Robbing me of life and lands,
Though they then disdained to kill,
Holding more than iron bands,
Holding still.
Pour on me their thunderous skies,
As where lightnings laugh and thrill—
Owned the drawing of the hands
Robbing me of life and lands,
Though they then disdained to kill,
Holding more than iron bands,
Holding still.
Terrible her beauty lay,
With its sweet and cruel sway,
On the bondage of my breast—
Gloomed above me, like the sight
Of a deadly Southern night,
Soothing but not unto rest—
Dreadful beauty that was blight,
All unblest.
With its sweet and cruel sway,
On the bondage of my breast—
Gloomed above me, like the sight
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Soothing but not unto rest—
Dreadful beauty that was blight,
All unblest.
Surely did her sinuous frame,
Weave around me slow the flame
Of its passion's fatal frost—
Me, like wingéd creature wiled
To destruction, as she smiled
Darkly, counting not the cost,
Till dishonoured and defiled,
Loving, lost.
Weave around me slow the flame
Of its passion's fatal frost—
Me, like wingéd creature wiled
To destruction, as she smiled
Darkly, counting not the cost,
Till dishonoured and defiled,
Loving, lost.
In the circle of her arms,
Only could I see the charms,
Only suck the sensuous heat
Melting even the rock of right,
With the magic of its might,
Driving conscience from its seat—
Magic I could make delight,
Not repeat.
Only could I see the charms,
Only suck the sensuous heat
Melting even the rock of right,
With the magic of its might,
Driving conscience from its seat—
Magic I could make delight,
Not repeat.
Yet she had a maiden's form,
Still herself in every storm
That her blasting graces lit;
Womanly in all the ways
Of her delicate soft days,
Roses, idlesse, dainty wit;
But ran through her folly, rays
Infinite.
Still herself in every storm
That her blasting graces lit;
Womanly in all the ways
Of her delicate soft days,
Roses, idlesse, dainty wit;
But ran through her folly, rays
Infinite.
Suitors pleaded without end,
Vainly strove her will to bend
By rich offerings to their own;
Wooed with agonies of love,
Not so precious as the glove
Lightly to her servant thrown
As some mount her mind above
Stretched, unknown.
Vainly strove her will to bend
By rich offerings to their own;
Wooed with agonies of love,
Not so precious as the glove
Lightly to her servant thrown
As some mount her mind above
Stretched, unknown.
Now no other face I see,
And from tamer graces flee,
Which enchanted me before;
Hear no other music now,
Save her daily broken vow,
And no other eyes adore;
But to her alone I bow,
Evermore.
And from tamer graces flee,
Which enchanted me before;
Hear no other music now,
Save her daily broken vow,
And no other eyes adore;
But to her alone I bow,
Evermore.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |