 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
DEATH IN THE CUP.
Around it goes, the cup of light,
With the old story of the years,
Dark in its glory as the night,
Mingled with madness, pain and tears;
Laughing, and lying in the mirth,
That heavenly sounds, but is of hell,
And binds the soul with fiery girth,
Which bound the angels when they fell;
He takes it fondly to his lips,
That drink, nor feel the fatal dart
Below, and with no measured sips
He sucks the poison in his heart.
With the old story of the years,
Dark in its glory as the night,
Mingled with madness, pain and tears;
Laughing, and lying in the mirth,
That heavenly sounds, but is of hell,
And binds the soul with fiery girth,
Which bound the angels when they fell;
107
That drink, nor feel the fatal dart
Below, and with no measured sips
He sucks the poison in his heart.
Around it goes, the cup of joy,
Thrilling through all his human flesh,
That turns the sky a coloured toy,
And moulds the ancient earth afresh;
It tells of pleasure meant for youth,
That finds no burden in the task,
And hides the hateful serpent's tooth,
Under the paint and glowing mask;
It bids him look on faces fair,
And listen to the tompter's voice,
Play with red lips and radiant hair,
And revel while he can rejoice.
Thrilling through all his human flesh,
That turns the sky a coloured toy,
And moulds the ancient earth afresh;
It tells of pleasure meant for youth,
That finds no burden in the task,
And hides the hateful serpent's tooth,
Under the paint and glowing mask;
It bids him look on faces fair,
And listen to the tompter's voice,
Play with red lips and radiant hair,
And revel while he can rejoice.
Around it goes, the cup of hope,
With wine that ruddy is and sweet,
That makes the gates of Eden ope,
And lays the world beneath his feet;
It points to pastures bright, and green
Spaces that break the curtained wood,
Where waters flash and sing, between
Hoar hills, that have for ever stood;
It leads him to enchanted rooms,
With lovely eyes and luring games,
Where curled behind the radiant blooms,
Murmur the black eternal flames.
With wine that ruddy is and sweet,
That makes the gates of Eden ope,
And lays the world beneath his feet;
It points to pastures bright, and green
Spaces that break the curtained wood,
Where waters flash and sing, between
Hoar hills, that have for ever stood;
It leads him to enchanted rooms,
With lovely eyes and luring games,
Where curled behind the radiant blooms,
Murmur the black eternal flames.
Around it goes, the cup of life,
And hundreds league to charm and cheat
The frantic trust, while cold the knife
Is sharpening for his bosom's beat;
Smooth is the road, and smiling friends
Are there to hush alarm to sleep,
That veils the awful edge, and lends
The last wild plunge into the deep;
Downward he drifts and courts his fate,
Lulled by soft hands and Siren breath,
And (roused to danger) finds too late,
The cup of life is cup of death.
And hundreds league to charm and cheat
The frantic trust, while cold the knife
Is sharpening for his bosom's beat;
Smooth is the road, and smiling friends
Are there to hush alarm to sleep,
That veils the awful edge, and lends
The last wild plunge into the deep;
Downward he drifts and courts his fate,
Lulled by soft hands and Siren breath,
And (roused to danger) finds too late,
The cup of life is cup of death.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |